Night Moves
by BluEyes
Summary: Starts Thanksgiving of Season 3. When Chandler's dad dies, the gang goes to Vegas for the funeral. Does what happens in Vegas really stay in Vegas? Mondler
1. Chapter 1

**Night Moves**

**Chapter 1**

~.~

_I don't know what to say about this one without giving too much away. I'm thinking this will be another short-ish one. It starts during Season 3, TOW the Football, and…yea, that's all I've got. Not much action in this chapter, kind of just setting it up. Oh, but you guys just wait until Chapter 2…. You. Just. Wait. :)  
><em>

~.~

"C'mon, man, you know you want to play with us while the turkey finishes cooking," Joey whined at Chandler, trying to get him to come play football with the rest of them while Thanksgiving dinner finished cooking. Chandler still made a face of indecision at his insistence. "Come on, you never want to do anything since you and Janice broke up," he crossed his arms, Monica crossing in front of him to answer the ringing phone.

"That's not true!" Chandler shot back defensively. "I wanted to wear my bathrobe and eat peanut clusters all day! I wanted to start drinking in the morning! Don't say I don't have goals."

"Yea, Nora, you tracked him down," Monica said into the phone receiver, handing it over to Chandler.

Chandler looked at her, confused. "Why is my mom calling me on a holiday?"

"To tell you Happy Thanksgiving?" Monica suggested, trying to get him to take the phone.

"My mom doesn't do that," he shook his head.

"Maybe she wants to start?" Monica suggested. "Well, if we're going to go play football, I need to finish up the potatoes, so you need to take the phone," she finally said, so Chandler took it from her.

"Hey, Mom," he greeted her. "Nope, we haven't eaten yet. Yea, we were actually just about to go outside and play some football," he paused, laughing slightly. "Believe it or not, I am sitting down. No, I really am," his tone suddenly changed from joking to serious. "Why?" he paused, everyone else in the room now looking at him. "Wait, what? What happened? Uh-huh…uh-huh…okay," he nodded slowly. "Okay. I'll see you Saturday. Love you, too. Bye," he hung up the phone, head still down.

"Everything…okay?" Monica was the first one to speak, having not moved from the living room, though her spoon was still in her hand.

Chandler shook his head, finally looking up. "My dad died."

"Oh my god!" Joey stepped forward, placing a hand on his shoulder.

"What happened?" Rachel asked.

"He collapsed during his show last night. Heart attack," he explained. "They're doing some sort of memorial show tomorrow night and the funeral Saturday," he stood up. "I need-I need to call and see if there are any available flights."

"I'll just go across the hall and look on your computer," Ross shook his head, standing up, as well. "See if I can find a flight for all of us tonight or tomorrow morning?" he asked, looking around, and everyone nodded in agreement.

"Kay," Chandler replied quietly, nodding, though he headed towards the door. "I'm just-I'm going to go for a walk for a minute."

"Do you want some company?" Phoebe offered, but Chandler shook his head.

"I just-I need a minute," he added before walking out the door, leaving the other five to stare at each other for a moment.

"I'm gonna go grab his laptop," Ross finally said, heading towards the door.

"I'm gonna come with and call my folks," Joey added, following behind as Monica grabbed her phone off the kitchen table,

"Can I use that after you?" Rachel asked Monica, who was already dialing the phone to call her parents.

Phoebe paused for a second, then shook her head. "I thought about calling Ursula for about two seconds, but, meh," she shrugged, both Rachel and Monica looking at her sadly. "No, it's fine, I've already lost more parents than most people have, so go ahead and call yours. Mon, want help with the potatoes?" she asked, moving to where Monica had been mixing them.

~.~

"Thought I'd find you out here."

Chandler physically jumped at the sound of Monica's voice as she climbed through the window onto the balcony, blanket in hand. He nodded in acknowledgment, taking another drag of his cigarette, turning back away from her.

"I know this is a stupid question, but…you okay?" Chandler shook his head slowly from side to side, still staring out towards the city. "Blanket?" she offered. "You have to be cold. It dropped, like, twenty degrees when the sun went down."

Chandler nodded, accepting the blanket she draped over his shoulders. "Thanks," he mumbled softly.

"Are you hungry? I know you're not going to eat anything in there, but I could make you grilled cheese or something," Monica offered, Chandler still staring out into the distance, smoking his cigarette. "Macaroni and cheese with little cut up hot dogs?"

Chandler laughed slightly at that, knowing it wasn't meant to come off as patronizingly as it sounded, shrugging. "You could at least come in and warm up. Or go to bed. We have an early flight in the morning."

"I have four more cigarettes left," Chandler replied softly, putting out the one he'd been smoking since he had smoked it down to the filter.

"And, what, you're just going to stay out here chain-smoking the entire pack?"

Chandler flicked his lighter, inhaling as he lit the next one. "Well, I'd rather get drunk, but I don't want to miss our flight in the morning, so, yea, that's the plan," he nodded.

"Chandler-"

"What, are you going to tell me I'm not dealing with this right?" he turned suddenly to face her. "I can't even remember the last time I saw my dad. I've been racking my mind all night, and I can't come up with it," he shook his head, angry at no one but himself. "And now, I'm never going to see him again. I'm going to get on a plane and go see a bunch of people he saw on a daily basis and be the horrible son who pushed his father away."

"Chandler-"

"Monica, I just-I can't deal with this right now," he cut her off, again turning away from her. "If you made me food, I might eat, though. I'm starving," he added, quieter. "As long as you don't make me talk."

"I won't make you talk," Monica promised, heading back towards the window.

"Thanks, Mon," Chandler added, turning back to face her.

Monica paused at the look on his face, wanting to give him his space, but also wanting to comfort him. "Can I at least give you a hug?"

Chandler nodded, continuing to force back the tears he'd been holding in all day, gladly accepting her arms once they were around him. "Thanks," he whispered, holding her tightly.

"No problem," Monica replied. "You stink," she added, causing Chandler to laugh as he pulled away.

"Well, you try smoking an entire pack of cigarettes in six hours and see if you still smell like a field of flowers."

"I smell like a field of flowers?"

Chandler shrugged. "Did you hear how many cigarettes I just smoked? I have no sense of smell. I couldn't tell if you hadn't bathed in days."

Monica laughed, glad that he was at least talking now, even if it was just joking around. "Mac and cheese?"

Chandler smiled slightly. "Please and thanks."

Monica returned his smile before heading inside, leaving him alone to finish his pack of cigarettes.


	2. Chapter 2

**Night Moves**

**Chapter 2**

~.~

_Thanks for the reviews so far, and keep it up, please! I'm not so sure I like this as much written down as I did in my head, but, meh. I'll let you guys decide what you think. :)_

~.~

"I've never seen so many sequins at a memorial service in my life," Chandler remarked as the six of them entered the venue where his father's memorial show was taking place, which was where he had performed on a nightly basis for roughly a decade now.

"I've never seen so many sequins period," Joey added, looking around. "Although, it would be a lot more appealing if it wasn't dudes wearing them," he added. "No offense," he looked at Chandler, who shrugged, apparently not offended.

"You okay?" Monica asked Chandler as they took their seats.

Chandler shrugged. "Honestly, it doesn't feel quite real yet. Maybe if this were any kind of _normal_ memorial service…" he trailed off, looking around. "Although, I'm positive he would have it no other way."

Phoebe looked around at all of the dancers and other people mingling with drinks, all glittery and dressed up, waiting for the show to start, colorful lights and disco balls sending beams of colored lights in all directions. "Heck, I don't think _I'd_ have it any other way! Guys, when I die, this is what I want for a funeral, okay?"

"Sure, Phoebs," Rachel replied.

The lights dimmed, signaling that the show was about to start, and the rest of the room began to take their seats.

"Does it make me sound like an eight-year-old if I say that I'm glad my mom's coming before the funeral tomorrow, though?" Chandler leaned toward Monica, whispering.

Monica reached over, squeezing his hand reassuringly. "No, I think it's human."

"Definitely," Ross added, seated on the other side of Monica. "You never get too old to need your mom."

"You do get too old to call her 'Mommy,' though," Monica looked at Ross, who made a face at her in reply, though they all quieted and turned their attention towards the stage as the music began.

~.~

"Hey," Monica greeted Chandler, who was sitting at their hotel bar after the memorial service, drinking. Though everyone else had gone back to their rooms to change (Chandler ending up with his own room since Joey had wanted his own room), he was still in his dress shirt and tie from earlier. "We went to your room to get you before we all go out, but you weren't there," she explained.

Chandler nodded, finishing the drink in front of him in one swallow. "I don't know if I really feel like going out."

Monica sat on the barstool beside him. "Mind some company?"

Chandler shrugged. "Not sure I'll be the best."

"Scotch on the rocks with a twist," Monica ordered from the bartender.

"I'll have another one," Chandler motioned to his glass, as well. "Won't everyone wonder where you went?" he asked Monica.

Monica shook her head. "They're hanging around here for awhile, and I told them if we don't catch up with them in twenty minutes or so, to just leave without us."

"You can still go, if you want," Chandler offered. "If you don't want to partake in my pity party," he added, a slight bite to his tone.

"Oh, come on," Monica smiled, reaching for her drink. "You're fun to get drunk with."

"Who says I'm drinking to get drunk?"

Monica laughed, nudging his knee under the bar with her own. "I would guess you're already about halfway there…."

Chandler shrugged, knowing she was right. "Well, I can't promise I'll be the fun kind of drunk tonight…."

~.~

"Shots!" Chandler slid a shot of tequila to Monica before liking his hand, sprinkling salt on it, sliding the salt to her to do the same.

"Lime, shot, salt?" Monica asked, grabbing a lime.

Chandler shook his head. "Isn't it salt, shot, lime?"

Monica shrugged. "Pretty sure tequila tastes terrible either way."

Chandler clinked his shot glass to hers. "We should do a drink for my dad."

"To your dad!" Monica clinked her glass to his, having obviously caught up to him in the getting-drunk department.

Chandler shook his head. "Not this one," he replied before licking the salt off his hand, taking the shot, and then biting the lime.

"Something a bit more racier?" Monica asked, making a face after taking her shot, and Chandler nodded in agreement. "Yea, tequila tastes terrible anyway."

"What did you have in mind for something racier?" Chandler asked hesitantly.

"Two slippery nipples," Monica ordered from the bartender, Chandler reddening visibly. "For your mom writing erotic novels and your dad being a burlesque dancer, one would think dirty shot names would be the least of things to make you blush."

Chandler made a face at her, taking one of the shots from the bartender. "Thanks."

"To Charles Bing," Monica raised her shot glass.

"To Helena Handbasket," Chandler clinked his to hers before they both took the shots.

"You knew Helena Handbasket?" the bartender asked in a thick Brooklyn accent.

Chandler nodded. "Yea, he was my dad."

"I'm sorry for your loss," he replied. "He put on a great show. Funny guy, too."

"Thanks," Chandler smiled sadly.

"One more on the house," he grabbed their empty shot glasses. "What'll you guys have?"

Monica looked at Chandler, trying to think of another dirty shot name to make him blush. "Two blowjobs?"

Chandler shook his head. "Is it a game now?" Monica shrugged, and Chandler laughed. "I love drunk Monica."

"Who says I'm drunk?"

"You weigh, like, 90 pounds. If I'm drunk, you're drunk."

~.~

"What if I die alone?" Chandler asked, glancing up at the football game that was playing on the TV behind the bar, though he wasn't really watching it.

"Don't be ridiculous."

"How is that ridiculous? I can't make any kind of relationship work, not even one that seems to be going well."

"Chandler, you did the right thing with Janice, telling her to go back to her husband. That took a big person to do that."

"Well, it made me feel about this big," he held up his fingers about an inch apart. "But, what, I'm 27, and that's my best example of a relationship? I don't know that I'd even classify any other romantic relationship I've ever had as a 'relationship,'" he made air quotations around the word. "I barely have a relationship with my mom, I had absolutely no relationship with my dad. I'm not just going to die alone, I'm going to die _alone_, alone," he paused. "Yea, try to tell me I'm not like Heckles now."

Monica sat silently for a moment. "My longest relationship was with my father's best friend."

"Touché," Chandler laughed slightly. "Well, at least we can be alone together."

Monica clinked her glass to his, sadly. "I'll drink to that."

~.~

"We should go _do_ something," Chandler suggested, both of them having gone from giddily drunk, past depressed drunk, and onto being completely gone.

"We _are_ doing something," Monica pointed out, as if that should have been obvious.

"We should do something _besides_ getting drunk."

"We're in Vegas, isn't that what people do in Vegas?"

"People do more than just get drunk in Vegas," Chandler paused, then snapped his fingers. "We should get married!"

"What?"

"That's what people do in Vegas! Besides, ya know, gambling and getting drunk. And then, if we got married, neither or us would have to die alone!"

"We could gamble and _then_ get married!" Monica improved on his idea.

"The Vegas Trifecta!" Chandler agreed enthusiastically, standing up from his barstool (and nearly falling over in the process), giving Monica a high-five after catching himself on the bar. "Good sir! Can we get our tab?" he motioned for the bartender. "We're going to get married!"

"And gamble!" Monica added enthusiastically.

"Vegas Trifecta," Chandler grinned at her before turning back to the bartender.

"You guys known each other the entire few hours you've been sitting here?" the bartender asked before handing Chandler the tab.

"Nah, we've known each other for years." Chandler handed him his credit card.

"In that case, mazel tov," he said, unenthusiastically.

"Thanks," Monica and Chandler replied in unison, missing his sarcasm, as Chandler took his credit card back before they turned away from the bar.

"Which are we doing first? Gambling or getting married?" Chandler asked, linking arms with Monica as they headed for the doors.

"Think there's someplace we could do both?"

"Monica Geller, _that_ is why I'm marrying you."

"I know!"


	3. Chapter 3

**Night Moves**

**Chapter 3**

~.~

_Oh, hey, this is just me…avoiding writing the ethics paper I need to write that is due in, oh, two days…. But, on my list of things I would rather do than write said paper (1-go to the dentist, 2-watch _Twilight_, 3-work at midnight on Black Friday, 4-clean the bathroom 5-watch an entire football game 6-go for a run in the snow when the wind-chill is 9 degrees Fahrenheit—well, I did do that last one…), this was actually one of the more constructive options, and I figured, oh, hey, it would probably make you guys happy. And I'm all about that, because you know what makes me happy? Reviews :) Thanks for them, and keep it up, please!_

~.~

Monica woke up slowly, the dull thudding in the back of her head pounding more and more loudly and demanding more and more attention of her. She groaned slightly, not opening her eyes as she moved to stretch out her limbs that felt like they'd been stationary for far too long. Her eyes shot open, though, as her leg brushed another leg.

She was not alone in bed.

She opened her eyes and—Chandler. Chandler was sleeping beside her. And she was—she paused, looking under the covers—yep, she was naked. Naked in bed with Chandler. Who also appeared to be naked.

Oh, what happened last night? Drinking. She remembered drinking. A lot. Neither of them had the best track record for decision-making when drunk. And Chandler had been drunk _and_ upset. Not a good combination.

"Chandler," she reached over to nudge him. "Chandler," she repeated. He incoherently mumbled, but still didn't move. "Chandler, wake up," she repeated firmly, nudging him again.

This time, Chandler's eyes shot open, consciousness and realization simultaneously setting in.

"Monica?" he asked hoarsely. "What are-Why?" he attempted a question as he sat up slowly, fingers going up to press into his temples as he closed his eyes, thinking that he might be able to remember something coherently (or at least produce a coherent statement) if he could only get the throbbing in his head to stop.

"Oh, god."

Chandler opened his eyes at the tone of Monica's voice, her face visibly paling. "Oh, god, what?" Chandler asked, nearing panic. "I mean, this," he motioned between them, "is pretty 'oh, god,' but your voice is different than it was a second ago." Monica looked down, still clutching the sheet in front of her, then back up. "Mon, please say something."

Instead of saying anything, she reached for his left hand with her left hand, holding them up for him to see. His jaw dropped: wedding rings.

"We didn't-we wouldn't-"

"Chandler!" They both nearly jumped at the sound of a sudden pounding on the door and Rachel's voice yelling through it. "Chandler! Open the door!"

Monica looked at him, paler yet. "She's looking for me."

"What do I do?"

Monica shrugged. "Open the door?"

Chandler got out of bed slowly, stumbling as he grabbed his boxers from a pile of discarded clothing on the floor, pulling them on as he headed for the door.

"Chandler-"

"For the love of all that is holy and good, please, stop with the pounding and yelling," he groaned, pulling open the door.

"Have you seen Monica?" Rachel asked, panicked. "Phoebe said she never came back to their room last night, and-" Rachel trailed off as Chandler opened the door wider to reveal Monica, still in his bed. "Well, this is new," she smiled and crossed her arms, entering the room. "So, what'd you two do last night?" she asked, grin still on her face, as Chandler walked back over to the bed, collapsing down onto it, lying on his back, hands over his face.

"Drank our weight in alcohol," he mumbled.

"And then some," Monica added.

Rachel smiled, bemused, pausing as she stepped on something. Looking down, she realized it was a stack of pictures. Picking them up, she gasped, the top one of them at an altar with Elvis officiating what appeared to be a wedding. "Did you guys get married?"

"And, now you're as far as we are," Chandler mumbled. "If you wouldn't mind leaving, you're welcome to come back as long as you bring aspirin."

"Oh my god, you guys seriously got married," she unfolded a copy of their marriage certificate. "Chandler, your middle name is Muriel?" she laughed.

Chandler glared at her.

"Right, not the time for that," she handed the pictures to Monica, before turning towards the door. "Anyway, you guys better become coherent enough to shower and get up soon. It's almost eight," she added before leaving.

Monica flipped through the small stack of pictures Rachel had handed her, setting them and the marriage certificate on the bed between them. "Well, that answers that," she said quietly.

Chandler reached for the pictures, too curious not to look at them.

"Vegas Trifecta," Monica finally whispered.

Chandler nearly laughed, a few memories coming back. "Right," he nodded, flipping through the pictures. "I think we get bonus points for having Elvis marry us, that's a pretty cliché Vegas thing, too," he added, stopping on the picture of them kissing passionately, studying it for a second. "Well, it looks like we had fun last night, at least," he joked, glancing tentatively at Monica.

"I should go get ready. We need to be downstairs in less than an hour."

Chandler nodded, standing up as he set the pictures down.

"Hey, um, could you, um, hand me my clothes?" Monica asked, motioning towards the pile of clothing at the foot of the bed.

Chandler moved to where she had motioned towards, grabbing her dress from the pile. Holding it up, though, he forced a laugh. "I uh, I may owe you an apology, and a new dress," he held it up by the straps, referring to the fact that it was ripped down the front.

Monica reddened slightly at that as Chandler headed towards the bathroom. "And, there's no robe," he added as he came back, reaching down for the button-up shirt he'd been wearing the night before, handing it to her (along with her bra an panties, face reddened at that), figuring since she only had to go across the hall, that it would do.

"Thanks," she mumbled, pulling the shirt on as he turned away, and then standing up. "Well, I should probably go," she said quietly, awkwardly.

Chandler nodded, turning back to face her, walking with her towards the door. "We, uh, we probably need to talk later, huh?" Monica nodded her head. "A lot." She again nodded slowly. "Okay. I just, today, right now, I just, I need-"

"We're okay," she grabbed his arm. "Whatever happened last night, I promise, we're okay. Don't worry about it right now," she reassured him, knowing he didn't need that on top of going to his father's funeral.

"Kay," Chandler whispered.

"I mean it," she added as she reached for the doorknob, Chandler nodding in acknowledgement as she left.

~.~

"Looking for your wife?" Phoebe smirked, opening her and Monica's hotel room door for Chandler, who was now showered and functioning with at least a slightly better mental capacity thanks to more aspirin than the recommended daily dosage.

"Oh, great, more people know about this," he grumbled, pausing once inside. "Well, I kind of am looking for Monica," he added, Monica walking out from the bathroom, already dressed and fastening a pair of earrings.

"Hey," she said tentatively.

"Hey," he replied, also awkwardly. "It's stuck," he held his hand up, referring to his ring. "I tried cold water, I tried soap," he shrugged. "Won't come off."

"Let me see if I have some Vaseline or something," Monica replied, heading for her suitcase.

At another knock on the door, Chandler opened it..

"Look who I ran into in the hall," Rachel greeted him, Nora following her into the room.

"Hi, Mom," he smiled, greeting her with a kiss on the cheek.

"Hey, kiddo," she hugged him. "How you holding up?"

"Oh, you know," Chandler shrugged. "Got drunk and married last night, so," he shrugged again, sitting down on one of the beds.

"I can see how you might think that was sarcasm," Phoebe added at Nora's lack of response to that comment, "but he's being serious."

"Thanks, Phoebs," Chandler nodded.

"And **that's** sarcasm!" Phoebe pointed enthusiastically, backing away when he made a face at that.

"Did you marry a stripper?" Nora asked. "If you're drunk enough, you can get it annulled."

"What? No-"

"A prostitute?"

"Mom-"

"A transvestite? I'm just saying, things happen in Vegas."

"Mom," Chandler sighed, exasperated.

"Honey-"

"Here, try this," Monica interrupted the conversation, handing him a small jar of Vaseline.

"Thanks," Chandler took it from her. He looked up at his mother, motioning between Monica and himself.

Nora smiled slightly. "Interesting plot-twist," she said under her breath.

"What was that?" Chandler asked.

"Nothing," Nora shook her head.

"Not a plot-twist," Chandler corrected. "Not something to use in one of your books."

"But honey, last time I used-"

"You've never used a situation from my life in one of your books," Chandler stated sternly, aggravated with both his mother and the fact that his ring still wouldn't come off.

"Wait, what was based on Chandler?" Rachel asked.

"Nothing," Chandler replied quickly.

Nora smiled. "I'll give you a list later."

"There's an entire list?" Rachel asked, intrigued.

"Mom," Chandler sighed. "Okay, this isn't coming off," he held his hand up. "Where's Ross, by the way. I feel like he'll _really_ appreciate this whole situation."

"Filling our suitcases with toiletries," Rachel shook her head. "I'll go get him."

"I'll come, too," Phoebe followed her out the door.

"Yes, we probably should get going," Nora agreed to that.

Monica came back out of the bathroom. "I'll just wear mine, too," she said quietly to Chandler as she slipped her ring back on, touching his back as she walked past, following Phoebe and Rachel in order to give Chandler a moment alone with his mom.

Chandler looked up at her, clearly holding back tears, the sudden presences of his mother bringing the emotions he'd been trying to swallow the past couple of days to the surface. "I know he wasn't your favorite person or anything, but…thanks for coming," he said quietly.

"Oh, honey," Nora hugged him, still standing in front of him. Chandler buried his face in her abdomen, looking like a child clinging to his mother. "I know we fought, but I didn't dislike the man," she paused, leaning down to kiss the top of his head. "After all, he gave me you."

Chandler took a few deep breaths before pulling back and standing up. "Okay, let's go," he said quietly, heading towards the door.

~.~

Although the memorial service the day before had been anything but ordinary, and the funeral was being held in the same location, it now looked incredibly like any other funeral. People in black, flowers, a casket, forlorn faces…An ordinary funeral, which hit Chandler hard, since he had been expecting anything but.

As they entered, Chandler followed closely behind his mother, Monica behind him, hand on his back, everyone else following behind. The second they entered the room, Chandler's demeanor changed. Before, he had been noticeably upset, but mostly due to how much he was holding in.

Now, as they took their seats among everyone else who was coming to mourn the loss of the same man, he was on the verge of tears. And the funeral service started, as most other services start, a minister spoke, verses and poems were read, and before Chandler was ready, it was his turn to speak. When he'd been asked over the phone by his father's partner, Brian, to say a few words about his father, his initial thought had been _no_. But after thinking it through, and becoming increasingly saddened at the fact that he didn't know such an important person in his father's life existed, he had realized he couldn't live with himself if he didn't at least say _something_.

So, he stood, nearly shaking, to give the first of the eulogies for the man he had pushed out of his life.

"Hi," he spoke softly into the microphone, another wave of sadness hitting at the fact that he didn't know any of the faces in the room. "I don't know most of you, but you might know me. I'm Chandler," he added, taking a deep breath as he glanced at his friends and mother for support. "I-I wouldn't characterize my relationship with my dad as bad so much as completely lacking. Which might be worse," he continued on. "And as I was racking my brain trying to come up with something to say, some funny anecdote or story, the one memory I kept coming back to was this one time," Chandler smiled slightly, "I was young, like, 5 or 6, and he took me to see _Pippin_ on Broadway, just the two of us, and he knew some costume designer or something, so we got to go backstage," he paused, looking at his mom, "really, Mom, don't know how you didn't know he was gay sooner," he joked, getting a laugh from the room, "and all I remember thinking was, man, my dad's the coolest guy ever," he paused, smiling sadly. "It's too bad we don't get to hold onto that feeling forever, of when we're little, and our dad's the coolest guy ever," he again paused, looking down, shaking his head as he balled up his fist.

"Whether you saw your dad Thursday for Thanksgiving or haven't talked to him in five years, when you get home today…give him a call. Or your mom. Or anyone else you love and haven't said that to in awhile. Or anyone you haven't told anything important to. That's vague. And preachy. Sorry, I'm not trying to sound like I'm up on a soap box," he paused, looking down, motioning to the podium he was standing at. "Although," he pointed down, "if the rhinestone-covered shoe fits," he got another laugh. He paused, wiped briefly at his eyes, and smiled sadly, looking at his father's casket. "I love you, Dad," he finished quietly. "And I'm sorry I didn't say it enough when I had that chance," he added, before stepping down quickly and returning to his seat.

He sat down heavily, leaning forward, face in his hands, as the man he had learned the night before was Brian stepped up to say a few kind words about his father, but Chandler wasn't listening. Nora placed a hand on her son's back, rubbing slow circles as he cried silently. Monica attempted to hand him a tissue, but he shook his head, accepting her hand when she offered that, instead.

Long after everyone else had filed out of the room, after all of the prayers and words had been said and the pallbearers had removed the casket, the six of them remained seated around Chandler in the empty room, heads down as he finally cried.

~.~

As everyone returned to their rooms after the service, Monica hung back with Chandler, sensing that although he had said he wanted to be alone for a few minutes, he didn't really want to be alone. As they reached the hallway between their rooms, Chandler silently opened his door, holding it open for Monica to enter, as well.

Closing the door behind them, Chandler looked down for a moment before stepping forward, placing his hands on either side of Monica's face, kissing her softly. She closed her eyes, returning the kiss for a moment, before pulling back slightly.

"Chandler," she said softly as he dropped his hands, moving them instead to her hips.

"I've wanted to kiss you, like that, since, god, I don't know, about 1989," he said softly, leaning in to brush his lips softly against hers again. "And I don't want to regret never doing it, so, I'm going to kiss you again, okay?"

Monica nodded, leaning into the kiss, finding that at that moment she had absolutely no urge to do anything but return it (and having wanted to do the same thing at various points over the years, too). Her response came out a barely audible whisper against his lips, her actions speaking for her. "Okay…."

~.~

_The more reviews, the quicker the updates. Just sayin'. I've been a member here for over a decade (god, I just admitted that out loud…), and it's a scientifically proven fact. :)_


	4. Chapter 4

**Night Moves**

**Chapter 4**

~.~

_You know how I said this was going to be another short one? Like 5 or 6 parts? Oh, the lies I tell…_

_Oh, and it was asked if Ross and Rachel are together, and the answer to that is yes. I like to (attempt to) follow canon, and this is the third season, so they are together._

_Other than that, thanks so much for the reviews, and keep it up, please! This part's longer-ish…oh, the sudden inspiration I have to write when faced with finals week, ha! Also, I'm currently working on updates for the entire plethora of stories I have going on at the moment…I apologize for the, like, 5 that I have going. That's a bit excessive. But, I'm 4 finals and 2 papers away from the end of the semester (which is 2 exams and 1 paper closer than last week!), and then I have an entire month off, whoo! Did I mention the massive amounts of caffeine I've been consuming lately? And lack of sleep?_

~.~

Chandler and Monica continued to kiss, still standing in place just inside of his hotel room door. It wasn't incredibly needy and passionate, but it was…_right_. It felt right. Which felt weird. But all Monica could think as they kissed, his fingertips moving from her hips to pressing into her lower back, sending butterflies racing through her stomach, was that this felt right.

Chandler was sure they had kissed the night before (there was picture evidence of it), and positive they had slept together (waking up naked and a condom wrapper on the nightstand were evidence of that), but all of his memories of the night before were hazy and blurred and full of holes. At no point in time did he remember feeling…_this_.

He meant what he'd said. He'd wanted to kiss her at so many points in time over the years, but it had never been right. She was his friend, his good friend, and she was not someone he wanted to take the risk of losing, which he surely would, given his track record with women.

At a soft knock on the door, they broke apart slightly, still standing in each other's arms, staring into each other's eyes, a bit dazed.

"Gonna get that?" Monica finally whispered, and Chandler nodded, reluctantly pulling away from her as he moved the couple of steps to the door.

"Hey, kid," Nora greeted him after he opened it.

"Hey," he replied.

"I just stopped by to let you know I made reservations for all of us at André's at 8."

"You made reservations at André's?" Monica asked, clearly excited, stepping around Chandler so she was beside him.

"I did," Nora smiled, not sure why it surprised her that Monica was there. "What time are you guys leaving tomorrow?"

"Not until late afternoon," Chandler replied.

"Great! Breakfast date with your mom?"

Chandler smiled. "Sounds good."

"I'll leave you two alone," she raised her eyebrows suggestively. "See you downstairs at 7:30," she added before leaving, closing the door behind her.

Chandler looked down at Monica, smiling slightly.

"What?" she asked, and Chandler shook his head.

"I'm thinking that I'm getting too old to drink as much as we did last night, and I need to take a nap because this hangover is not going away."

"Oh," Monica nodded, moving away. "I can go…."

Chandler looked down, scuffing his foot nervously. "Or you can stay?"

Monica smiled at that. "Or I can stay."

~.~

Monica woke up, slightly disoriented as often happens when napping in the middle of the day, almost too content lying in Chandler's arms to get up and even look at the time. It was weird. This was all weird. And they probably needed to talk, but she had been telling herself all day that they could talk once they got home. Chandler was upset, and he needed her, and…well, this part of it was kind of new and exciting, and she really didn't want to disrupt it. But, then there was the whole fact that they had gotten married the night before….

Craning her neck to look over Chandler, Monica saw that the clock read just past 6; they had slept nearly all day. Fitting her head back against his chest, pressing her body into his, she sighed with content when his arms tightened around her.

"What time is it?" Chandler mumbled.

"A little after 6," Monica replied. "I should probably go get ready for dinner," she sat up, smiling as she studied him. He was still in his dress shirt and pants, though his shirt was untucked, his tie was off, and his hair was completely disheveled. A sudden wave of warm affection for the man beside her washed over her, and she found it even harder to leave.

"What?" Chandler asked off of the look she was giving him.

Monica shook head. "Nothing, it's just…you're cute."

Chandler smiled. "You're really hot, but you already know that." Monica laughed slightly. "We're meeting my mom at 7:30?"

"Yep."

"I wonder if she even told everyone else."

"Got me."

"I should probably get up and do that," Chandler said, but again closed his eyes. "I've barely even seen Joe since we got here."

"I think he understands."

Chandler opened his eyes, sitting up beside her. "You gonna go get ready?" Monica nodded. "Kay," he responded before kissing her softly on the lips.

"I'll see you in a little bit," Monica said softly, unsure what this was that was going on, but afraid that talking about it might ruin it.

"See you in a little bit," he kissed her once more before she stood up, smiling back at him once more before leaving.

~.~

Chandler took a long drag of his cigarette, standing just outside of their hotel, waiting for everyone else to come down. He leaned back against the wall, wishing he had waited to put his jacket on until they got to the restaurant. Vegas weather was definitely too hot for a jacket over a dress shirt, but if he knew his mother's tastes right (and judging by how excited Monica was to go there), he assumed it was the kind of place he needed to wear a jacket.

His dad was dead.

Chandler took another drag of his cigarette, holding the smoke in for a moment before blowing it out slowly.

His head was so full of so many different emotions right now, he didn't know what to do with any of them. So, he bought a pack of cigarettes. Maybe not the most constructive solution, but, hey, a guy's gotta do what a guy's gotta do.

"Hey."

Chandler looked up at the sound of Monica's voice. "Hey," he smiled in return, looking her up and down, almost certain she was wearing a dress he'd never seen before.

"I went to your room, but you weren't there, and I somehow had a feeling this is where I'd find you and what you would be doing when I did."

Chandler smiled, laughing slightly. "Guess I'm predictable like that," he replied before taking another drag.

Monica studied his face for a moment before speaking. "I know you're tired of this question, but…are you okay?"

Chandler shook his head from side to side. "My dad's dead. I can't remember the last time I saw him, the last thing I said to him. No idea when the last time I told him I loved him was. I don't know any of the important people in his life," Chandler shook his head, staring at the cement, pausing as he took another drag of his cigarette. "Last night I got drunk and married one of my best friends. So, yea," he nodded his head. "I don't know that I would classify my current state of being as 'okay'…."

"You can not be okay," Monica replied softly, touching his arm. "That's okay."

"Chandler, don't tell me you're smoking again," at the sound of Nora's voice from behind them, Monica and Chandler both turned back towards the doors.

"Well, I could tell you I'm _not _smoking, but it would probably work as well as when I was 16 and told you I wasn't smoking," he grinned, walking over to the ashtray by the door to throw away his cigarette butt.

"Nora, it is really too much that you're taking us all to André's," Monica said as everyone else walked out the doors, walking over to join them.

"Oh, don't be ridiculous," Nora brushed off the comment. "I never get to see all you kids."

"Hey, guys, clear something up," Phoebe said as they came to a stop where the three were standing. "If you get married in Vegas, you're only married _in_ _Vegas_, right?"

Chandler shook his head, looking at her in bewilderment. "Phoebs, if you get married in Vegas, you're married everywhere."

"_Told_ you," Ross emphasized.

"Really?" Phoebe asked, sounding almost panicked, eyes wide. "Eh," she shrugged after a moment. "No big deal."

"Phoebs, who did you marry?" Rachel asked.

Phoebe shook her head. "Polygamy's illegal, anyway, and I was already married to Duncan at the time, so it still shouldn't count. I'm good," she shrugged it off.

Nora shook her head. "Another plot-twist. I should really hang around you kids more often."

"Great idea," Chandler replied sarcastically.

"Hey," Joey nudged his arm. "If you guys got married, why didn't you invite any of us?"

"Joe, we were so drunk we _got married_."

"Yea, so, what's going on with that?" Ross asked, arms crossed.

"I'm going to bring up the time you kissed my mom, and you're going to drop the subject of me getting drunk and marrying your sister," Chandler pointed out.

"Fair enough," Ross nodded, stepping back from the group.

"And, there's the car," Nora pointed out as a limo pulled up.

"She got a limo?" Phoebe asked, clearly excited. "We should _totally_ hang out with your mom more often!"

~.~

"Mon," Joey leaned slightly closer to Monica, who was sitting between him and Chandler. "It's not in English," he whispered as he motioned to the menu.

"It's a French restaurant," she replied quietly.

"How do I know what to order?"

"Joe, is there anything you don't like eating?"

"Point taken," he nodded, going back to looking over the menu.

From the other side, she felt Chandler's hand brush her thigh as he placed it on her knee, not missing a beat in the conversation he was having with Ross and Rachel from across the table, and she wondered momentarily if he was perhaps better with women than he let on. She had always figured as much, and that his insecurities were only in his head.

Attempting to be nonchalant about it, Monica leaned closer to Chandler, and he gave her knee a slight squeeze in return.

Smiling as she looked over the menu, Monica found herself hoping this was anything but one of those things that happened in Vegas but stayed in Vegas.

~.~

"Mrs. Bing, thank you so much for dinner," Ross thanked her after they had arrived back at the hotel.

"Ross, please, how long have you known me? Please, call me Nora," she corrected him.

"Yes, thank you, Nora," Rachel added.

"You're both very welcome," Nora replied. "And, Rachel, I will send you an advanced copy of my book next month."

"And the list of thingsbasedonChandler'slife?" Rachel asked, quickly and quietly.

"And that," Nora laughed.

"Great, I need more things for people to make fun of me for," Chandler chimed in.

"Hey, you make fun of us all the time," Rachel pointed out. "It's just leveling the playing field."

"Not all are things to be made fun of for," Nora added.

"Okay, this conversation is getting weird," Chandler cut them off.

"Can I see that list?" Monica quietly asked Rachel, receiving a glare from Chandler in return.

"Well, we are calling it a night," Rachel ended the conversation, referring to Ross and herself. "We will see you guys in the morning."

"Night," Ross added.

"Goodnight," everyone else called after them.

"I'm gonna go play some slots," Phoebe added. "Joe, you in?" she asked.

Joey shrugged. "Gonna help me meet a hot girl?"

"Deal," Phoebe nodded. "Thank you for dinner, Nora. See you guys later."

"Yea, thanks for dinner," Joey added, following after Phoebe.

"You two up for a couple drinks?" Nora asked Monica and Chandler, who looked at each other before nodding. "Great! Then I can get the story of what actually happened late night," she added as she headed towards the hotel bar, Monica and Chandler following behind.

"You can go if you want," Chandler leaned close to Monica, hand on her lower back as he whispered into her hair.

She looked back at him, shaking her head. "I want to stay."

He smiled. "Don't say I didn't warn you."

"Helena Handbasket's kid!" the bartender from the night before pointed to Chandler as they walked up to order their drinks. Chandler nodded. "Didn't think I'd be seeing you two again tonight after last night," he laughed. "Get married?" Chandler held up his left hand, and the bartender laughed. "Vegas, man," he shook his head. "Anyway, what can I get you guys?"

Chandler nodded at his mother to order first. "I'll have a glass of Merlot."

"Make that two," Chandler added.

"Three," Monica agreed.

"No shots for you two tonight?" the bartender asked with a laugh.

"God, no," they replied in unison, looking at each other with a smile after saying it at the same time.

After getting their drinks, the three headed towards a table.

"So, last night consisted of making friends with the bartender and doing shots?" Nora asked as she sat down, Monica and Chandler sitting across from her and close together.

Chandler nodded. "I would say that's the gist of it, but that's pretty much the entire story."

"Except how you decided to get married," Nora pointed out.

"We decided we needed to do something more Vegas-y," Chandler laughed.

"Vegas Trifecta," Monica added.

"Get drunk," Chandler held up one finger, "gamble," he held up a second finger, "and get married. Vegas Trifecta."

Nora nodded with a laugh. "Perfect drunk logic."

"We seemed to think so at the time," Chandler agreed with a laugh.

"Well, at least you married each other, and not some random stranger," Nora pointed out. "You have much better decision-making abilities than I did when I was your age."

Chandler thought that through for a moment. "When you were my age, you already had me."

"And had married your father," Nora added, "who, rest his soul, was pretty obviously gay all along." Chandler laughed at his mother's wording of that. "Well, what I meant to ask, is how long has this been going on?" she motioned between the two, sitting closely together, Chandler's hand again resting on Monica's leg beneath the table.

The two became silent at that, avoiding looking at one another as each took a long drink of their wine. "Ah, it's new," Nora deduced, smiling at them, seeming not to mind that she was continuing to speak on a subject they had not yet discussed between themselves. "Another interesting plot-twist."

"Putting the little 'This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual people or events is entirely coincidental' at the beginning of a novel is a _lie_ when you _base_ it on actual events," Chandler pointed out with a huff.

"Honey, I'm kidding," Nora reassured him, patting his hand from across the table. "Well, I was always rooting for you two to get together," she explained, taking a drink of her wine. "Ever since that spring I came to visit when you were in college, and when I got to your dorm, Monica was there instead of Ross," Nora continued on. "I thought you two kids were cute and flirty together, and I knew she was your best friend's sister, but I was just waiting until the time I called and you added a, 'and by the way, Monica and I are dating now,' to the end of the conversation,'' Nora looked back and forth between the two, whom were both blushing furiously at what she had just said. "I'm going to go tell him we'll just take the whole bottle," she motioned to the bar, standing up to give the two a moment alone together.

Chandler and Monica looked at each other once she had walked away. Chandler smiled slightly, taking Monica's hand on top of the table. "Hey," he said softly.

"Hey," Monica replied just as softly, as his fingers wrapped around hers.

"I warned you."

"She is not that bad," Monica replied, and Chandler scoffed. "You want your mom or my mom?"

Chandler nodded at that, taking her point. He smiled, staring into her eyes, wanting badly to ask if this thing that was going on was just a while-we're-in-Vegas thing, or a once-we-get-home thing, but he was afraid that doing so would ruin it. So, instead, he leaned in, kissing her softly on the lips, pulling back with a smile, glad to see the same smile on her face.

~.~

"He did not!" Monica laughed loudly, the entire bottle of wine having been consumed between the three of them.

"Swear to god," Nora nodded.

"Chandler?" Monica looked at him, still laughing. He nodded his head slowly. "How on Earth did you get talked into dancing in one of your dad's shows?"

"I think, honestly, I may have been a little drunk at the time," Chandler shook his head, "since I make such great decisions when I'm not sober," he added. "And it paid a lot, and I didn't know anyone here," he shrugged, Monica continuing to laugh, nearly falling off her chair she was laughing so hard.

"Well," Nora stood up as the laughter subsided, "Now that I've sufficiently embarrassed you for the night, I think I am going to call it a night and leave you kids alone." She walked over to Chandler's side of the table as he stood up.

"Goodnight, Mom," he kissed her on the cheek.

"Goodnight. I'll see you in the morning," she replied, Monica standing up to come hug her, as well.

"It was good to see you, Nora," Monica said.

"It was good to see you, too, Monica," she hugged her. "Feed him, more, he's too skinny," she added quieter.

Monica laughed slightly, "I'll try."

"Well, 'night, kids," Nora said as she turned to leave. "Behave," she winked at Chandler.

"Goodnight."

"Night."

Chandler smiled at Monica, taking a small step closer to her to close the distance between them, placing his hands on either side of her hips, glad that the wine had made it much easier for the question he'd been nervously wanting to ask all night to come out. He leaned closer to her, voice low, surprising himself with how smoothly the question came out (and with the eagerness in which she replied). "Want to go upstairs?"


	5. Chapter 5

**Night Moves**

**Chapter 5**

~.~

_Thank you so, so, so, so much to everyone who has reviewed since my last update. All 17 of you. Yes, 17! **SEVENTEEN!** For one chapter! I'm amazed. That is SO not the norm here anymore, I don't even…I can't even…There are no words. I am a woman of words, and there are no words. Thank you so, so much! You all have no idea how much I appreciate all of the kind words. Thank you, thank you, and thank you again._

_Also, just throwing this out there, it's 60 freaking degrees here today. In January. A blizzard here right about now would be more appropriate. Not that I'm complaining. Just pointing out. Although I did get new winter running clothes for Christmas that I'm dying to wear. Instead, I just keep running in shorts and a tshirt. In freaking January. Craziness, I tell ya! Craziness!_

~.~

The second Monica and Chandler were through his hotel room door, they were kissing. Hard, passionate kisses melting into slow, sensual kisses, still standing inside the door, neither of them making a move towards the bed.

Though the wine had given him a slight buzz, it was not enough to give him courage in this situation. They'd already slept together, but they'd been drunk, so drunk that the night before was nothing but a hole-filled blur. And he was nervous. Because she was _Monica_. And he was _Chandler_. And the night before, they had been drunk, but tonight, hell, everything that had happened between them today, had implications. Not bad implications. Not unwanted implications. But implications none the less.

So, he kissed her hard, felt her soft lips against her own, explored her warm mouth with his tongue, slid his hands slowly along the curves of her body, her fingertips grazing the collar of his shirt, playing against the back of his neck. And he kissed her again and then again, finally laughing slightly against her lips.

"What?" she asked softly, and he shook his head, leaning his forehead against hers, their bodies pressed together into one.

"Nothing," he replied softly, Monica pulling back slightly so she could look up into his eyes. "It's just-it's been a really, really long day."

Monica nodded in reply, standing on her toes so she was eye-level with him, kissing him softly on the lips. She then grabbed him by either side of his jacket, pulling him with her towards the bed, kissing him again as they moved down onto it together, once again kissing, Monica pushing his jacket off of his shoulders.

Chandler again pulled back slightly. "Mon?"

"Hm?" she asked, both of them staring into each other's eyes, as if daring the other to say what both were thinking.

Chandler shook his head, leaning back towards her as they went back to kissing. Talking could be done in the morning. Or when they got home. "Never mind…."

~.~

Monica woke up momentarily as Chandler pressed his warm lips against hers, whispering that he would be back soon. She must have completely slept through him getting up to shower and get ready, since his hair was wet and he was changed. She sleepily mumbled goodbye against his lips, attempting to savor the remaining moments of being between sleep and awake in a bed that smelled deliciously of the two of them.

Sighing with content, Monica finally opened her eyes, looking around the room. It had been another night, and they still had yet to say a single word about what was going on between them. Or about the fact that they were married. And that Chandler's ring was still stuck on his finger.

Sitting up, Monica decided that she would go back to her room and shower, knowing that what Chandler intended to be a short breakfast with his mother would, knowing Nora, probably be a pretty long breakfast with his mother. Getting out of bed, Monica picked up the pile of clothes she had folded neatly the night before, redressing before heading out his door, across the hall, and into her own room.

"Is your husband also your boyfriend?" Phoebe immediately met her at the door with the accusation.

"I-um-" Monica sputtered out, visibly reddening.

"You haven't talked about it," Phoebe smiled knowingly.

Monica shook her head. "No…we haven't."

"Do you want him to be your boyfriend?" she asked, Monica remaining silent, but smiling shyly. "That's a yes," Phoebe grinned. "I was about to head down for some breakfast. Want to come?"

"Yea, sure," Monica nodded, still trying to get her barring on the situation. "Just let me change first."

"Oh, I'm sure you wouldn't be the only one in your clothes from the night before. It is Vegas," Phoebe pointed out, though Monica headed for her suitcase anyway. "Yea, okay, or you can go ahead and change."

~.~

"So," Rachel asked, taking a bite of the scrambled eggs on the plate in front of her, "what's going on with you and Chandler?"

"Yea, Mon," Ross echoed, though clearly with an entirely different tone. "What's up with you and Chandler?"

Monica chewed the bite of food in her mouth entirely too long, avoiding providing any answers on a topic the two of them had yet to discuss. She looked down, feeling four pairs of eyes staring at her, waiting for a reply. However, she remained silent, not wanting to provide answers she wasn't sure of herself.

"Chandler will be easier to crack," Joey pointed out in response to Monica's silence, and the other three nodded eagerly in agreement.

~.~

Chandler glanced at Monica beside him in the first class cabin of the airplane, suddenly grateful that Ross hadn't been able to find seats for all of them together when he booked the flight. After returning from breakfast with his mother, everyone had been hurrying to get ready to leave, and he'd found himself without a single moment alone with Monica.

Now they were alone, though. For a nearly six hour stretch of time.

Glancing out the window to take a moment to gather the courage to have this conversation, Chandler took a deep breath before turning back toward Monica, nudging her knee with his. She looked up at him from the book she was reading, the two having been sitting in a comfortable silence for nearly an hour now.

"Hey," he smiled shyly.

"Hey," she echoed.

"I just-I wanted-is this," he stumbled over his words, sighing heavily as he rubbed his eyes before leaning back in his chair, gripping both of the armrests. "I'm really bad at this."

"I think you're better than you think you are," Monica placed her hand over his on the armrest, sliding her fingers between his.

Chandler smiled at the small act of affection, turning back towards her. "Are we…Is this-is this something?" he asked softly, motioning between the two of them.

Monica nodded slowly. "I want it to be."

Chandler audibly sighed in relief. "Me, too."

"Okay."

"Okay." Chandler smiled to himself, Monica going back to her book, their fingers still entwined, and it took him a moment to realize she was playing with his ring. "It's sill stuck."

"Emergency room?" Monica suggested.

Chandler wrinkled his nose. "That seems like a ridiculous reason to go to the hospital."

Monica shrugged. "Probably happens all the time."

Chandler nodded. "I have to fly back to Vegas Wednesday morning to meet with my dad's lawyer," he explained suddenly. "About his will and stuff."

"Want me to go with you?"

"I think I need to go by myself," he replied softly, appreciating the offer. Monica nodded, understanding. "You can go with me to the emergency room to get my ring cut off, though. Because that sounds embarrassing."

Monica laughed slightly, still playing his hand, before leaning in to kiss him.

"Aw, you guys, too?" Joey's voice whined from the aisle. "I was going to see if one of you would switch me seats, because Ross and Rachel are being all," he made a face, "gross and," he motioned between the two of them, still holding hands, looking sweetly at each other, "like this."

"Joe-"

"It's fine," Joey sighed, cutting Chandler off. "You guys all need to stop hooking up," he pouted, turning to go. "Maybe I'll see if Phoebe wants to trades seats. Or," he turned back to them with a grin, snapping his fingers as a thought crossing his mind. His grin, though, quickly turned to a look of disgust. "Nope," he shook his head. "It would be like joining the Mile High Club with one of my sisters. You guys have a nice flight," he nodded at them before walking back to his own seat.

Chandler grinned as Monica turned towards him. "_Or_, we could-"

"Nope."

Chandler shrugged. "Worth a shot."

Monica nodded. "Joey would appreciate the effort."

~.~

_This chapter was meant to be twice this length, but I'm not done with the rest and realized how long it's been since I updated this, so I decided something is always better than nothing._

_Again, thank you all for reading and reviewing. :) Times a million, thank you._


	6. Chapter 6

**Night Moves**

**Chapter 6  
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~.~

_Um, holy busy fandom, batman! It hasn't been this active here in years!_

~.~

"Windex!" Joey exclaimed, walking into Monica and Rachel's apartment Monday morning, everyone else gathered around eating breakfast.

"Oooh! Oooh! Pine sol!" Phoebe countered excitedly from the couch, where she was sitting with Rachel.

Joey looked at her, not understanding. "What?"

"I thought we were naming cleaning products," Phoebe shrugged. "You walk into Monica's apartment and say a name of a cleaning product," she explained, shrugging again. "Seemed like a fun game."

Joey shook his head. "Anyway," he turned towards Chandler, "I was talking to my dad, and he said he didn't take his wedding ring off for twenty years, and he wasn't quite as slim as he was when he got married, so his ring was stuck, and the only thing that worked to get it off was Windex!" Joey explained, sitting down beside Chandler.

Chandler shrugged. "Worth a shot."

"Just figured, before you went to the hospital and got your finger cut off," Joey shrugged, reaching for an empty bowl and a box of cereal.

"You mean before he gets the _ring_ cut off?" Ross corrected him.

Joey wrinkled his forehead. "What'd I say?"

"Speaking of," Ross turned towards Monica and Chandler, who were sitting together.

"Speaking of…?" Chandler replied.

"Are you guys gonna try to get it annulled or get divorced or what?"

"You realize we've been home all of ten hours," Monica pointed out. "And sleeping for most of them."

"Just saying," Ross shrugged. "Don't see the point in putting it off."

"Well, can I get the phone number of your divorce lawyer?" Chandler smiled at Ross.

"Ha ha, pick on the divorced guy," Ross replied, not amused. "And don't think I don't know you spent the night here last night."

Chandler shrugged. "Wasn't trying to hide it?"

"Dude, she's my sister."

"And…."

"And you're my best friend."

"If we're getting all technical," Chandler started slowly, "Monica is your sister, and Rachel is her best friend," he pointed at Rachel.

Ross crossed his arms. "What's your point?"

"The same as yours?" Chandler countered, unsure, and Ross huffed at that.

"Windex?" Monica looked at Joey, who nodded enthusiastically, so she got up from the table, heading to her room, returning with it.

Chandler smiled, amused. "You keep your cleaning supplies in your room?"

"Does this really surprise you?"

Chandler shook his head. "Not in the least."

"So, we just spray it on his finger?" Monica asked Joey.

"Yep. Oh! And dental floss. He said you can thread floss through it first to yank it off with," Joey added through a bite of cereal.

Monica headed toward the bathroom for floss, Chandler close behind. He stood close behind her as she dug through a drawer to pull out some floss, turning slowly to face him.

"Hi," he grinned, placing a hand on either side of her hips.

"Hi," she replied, wrapping her arms around his neck as he leaned in to kiss her.

Joey's "Yea, baby!" coming from behind them caused them to pull apart. "Well _that_ wasn't either part of the instructions," he grinned. "C'mon, I wanna see if it works," he motioned for them to try.

"Let's see what happens," Chandler held his hand out as Monica yanked off a piece of floss, carefully threading it between the ring and his finger before grabbing the Windex and spraying some on his finger. "I feel like this might be some kind of fantasy of yours," Chandler pointed out. "You know, something involving spraying of cleaning products..." he grinned at Monica, who shot him a look as Joey tried to contain a laugh.

"You want me to help you, or not?" she asked, trying to sound slightly irritated, though she was actually relieved that Chandler was acting like, well, like Chandler. She had been afraid that things would be weird now that they were home, but other than him spending the night last night and the kissing…it felt normal. Good normal. Chandler placed his hand back in hers so she could squirt some more Windex on it before grabbing hold of the floss himself, pulling it hard.

Off flew the ring.

"Sometimes Tribiannis know what they're talkin' about," Joey grinned.

"Knew we kept you around for a reason," Chandler patted him on the shoulder, pocketing the ring as all three of them headed back into the kitchen.

~.~

"Bye, Mon," Chandler whispered, leaning over to kiss her goodbye. He was leaving for the airport to head back to Vegas to meet with his father's lawyer, and it was still early enough that it was dark outside. Brian, his father's partner, had called, offering to pick him up from the airport and asking if he'd want to stay with him, wanting to get to know him, and Chandler had agreed, feeling it was probably better late than never.

"Bye," she replied sleepily. "Call me when you get there?"

"Kay," he kissed her once more. "See you tomorrow."

"See you tomorrow," she echoed, rolling back over to go back to sleep.

Chandler stared back at her for a moment, lying in his bed, unable to contain a smile at that. If there was something good to come from his father's death, this, the two of them, had to be it.

~.~

Chandler sat in his father's lawyer's office, stunned to silence. Chandler was listed as the sole beneficiary. Brian had been the one to tell him this when he picked Chandler up from the airport. He had told Chandler he would like to keep their house, and Chandler had immediately agreed, saying he wouldn't feel right not letting him, but Brian had failed to mention how much, exactly, that left Chandler with.

Charles Bing had some money.

Well, Charles Bing had had family money, and Helena Handbasket had added to that pretty extensively.

Chandler knew his parents had money, their lifestyle when he was growing up gave enough proof of that, and because they both had their own family money and successful careers, neither had gotten off for the better or for the worse after their divorce. But, Chandler had never taken the time to sit down and wonder exactly how much money his parents, his family had; he hadn't given it a thought. The last money he had accepted from either of them was to pay for college.

Taking a long drink of the cup of coffee in his hands, Chandler tried to wrap his head around the figure. Shaking his head as he looked back up at the lawyer, he almost smirked as he asked, "How many zeros was that again?"

~.~

"Where could he be?" Monica asked anxiously, worried. Chandler's flight had landed nearly four hours earlier, and he still wasn't home, though the other four were at her apartment with her, finishing eating a couple of pizzas they had ordered.

"Maybe his flight was delayed," Rachel pointed out.

"No, I called to check on it, and it arrived on time."

"Maybe he missed his flight?" Phoebe offered.

"Why wouldn't he call then?" Monica sighed, and, as if on cue, the front door opened, everyone turning to see Chandler walk in. "Oh my god, you're okay!" Monica rushed over to him as he set down his duffle bag. The hug she was about to give him, though, instead turned to her smacking his chest, her look of relief turning to one of anger. "Where the hell have you been the past four hours?"

"It's, um, kind of a long story," he nervously shoved his hands into his pockets, suddenly wondering why at least calling Monica when he landed hadn't crossed his mind.

"There's no discreet way for this to happen, so we're just gonna go," Phoebe stood up, pointing to the door, everyone but Rachel following. "Rach!" Phoebe hissed.

"I wanna see what happens," Rachel whined, reluctantly standing up to follow the rest of them out the door.

"So?" Monica asked, arms crossed.

"I'm sorry. I'm really, really sorry. I told you I'm bad at this," he explained. "I just-I had a lot on my mind after the last couple of days, and, I don't know, I'm sorry I didn't call you. I just needed to think through a couple of things."

"Like what?"

"Like what?" Phoebe's muffled voice carried through the closed door. Chandler walked over to the door and opened it, revealing Phoebe, Rachel, and Joey, ears up against it, almost falling as he opened it.

"I tried to get them not to do it," Ross defended himself, standing back, arms crossed.

"Right, and that's why you keep asking, 'What'd he say?'" Rachel turned towards him.

Chandler shook his head at them disapprovingly, closing the door, locking and chaining it as he motioned for Monica to follow him to her bedroom for some privacy.

"Okay, so, I've had a lot of time to think the past couple of days, and," he took a deep breath, "god, this was so much easier and sounded so much better in my head," he forced a laugh, Monica still staring at him expectantly. "Okay, so, first thing," he began. "I-I don't want to divorce you," he began slowly. "I looked it up, and New York has pretty strict annulment laws, and…I'm not ready to be married to you, but I don't want to divorce you, Monica," he continued, eyes locked with hers, voice low. "I just-I don't like how that feels. I don't want that to be the beginning of our relationship." Monica nodded slowly. "And, I don't know, maybe, ya know, in a few years, we can do it again, for real, and this can just be our secret," he paused. "Okay, all of this is really hard for me to think about, let alone say out loud, so you're going to have to respond sometime soon."

Monica smiled at that, stepping forward as she took a hold of his hands. That was big for him to think about, big for him to say out loud, and she figured that his father's death had something to do with that thinking process. It was entirely too soon in a relationship to bring up such things, really, to think of such things, but she couldn't help but find herself feeling the same. She didn't want to divorce him; the thought just didn't sit well. She nodded slowly. "Okay."

"Okay?"

Monica nodded. "But if either one of us changes our minds, for any reason, we get divorced, no hard feelings."

Chandler nodded, wondering if that part was more for his benefit or for hers. "Okay, second of all," he smiled, playing with her hand that he was still holding, "my dad left me everything."

"What, exactly, is everything?"

"Well, Brian asked if he could keep their house, which I, of course, agreed to, and he's an awesome guy, by the way. I wish I had met him before. I actually feel a little better about everything with my dad after spending some time with him. But, in all," Chandler took a deep breath, "his estate is worth about 10 million dollars."

"What?" Monica looked at him wide-eyed.

"See, I opened with the other part so I knew you wouldn't want to stay married to me just for my money," he grinned, and Monica smacked at his arm.

"I knew both of your parents had money, but…."

"Yea, me, too," he laughed. "No idea. I think I asked his lawyer to repeat that number about five times. And with everything left to me, and no disagreements or anything, he said it should only take a month or so to settle the estate."

"Chandler, what are you going to do with that kind of money?"

Chandler nodded. "And now you know where I was for the past four hours. Walking around thinking about this. Well, thinking about the first part, but also this," he crossed her room, unable to stand still. "You know how everyone has a thing they would want to do if they didn't have to worry about money? Well, I don't know what that thing is," he shrugged. "I, apparently, lack a dream, and that freaked me out a little, so after my plane landed, I went to work, and I told Doug that I quit."

"You quit your job?"

"Yep," he grinned. "I mean, you have a career you're passionate about. Joey, Joey has a career that he's passionate about. Even Ross and his damn dinosaurs. But," he shrugged, "I need to figure out what that is for me."

"What did Doug say?"

"He basically just wished me luck. And told me to run as far and quickly as possible."

"Good for you," Monica smiled.

Chandler smiled, nodding slightly. "Other than that, I don't…I don't know. I guess I'll just keep most of the money invested. I kept thinking of all of these things I could buy, where I could live, but when it came down to it…right now, I can't imagine not living here, with Joey, right across the hall from you. I mean, yea, someday, I want to maybe buy a house outside of the city, and I always appreciated that my parents paid for my college and I didn't have to worry about that and want to be able to do the same for my kids someday. And, see, thinking about all of this, kinda freaks me out, actually, really freaks me out, and I don't know if it's just everything with my dad that's making me think of it or what, but," he paused, "this is where I've been all afternoon."

Monica smiled, stepping forward as she wrapped her arms around his neck. "You realize you're an amazing man, right?"

Chandler shrugged. "I try not to tell myself that too often or my head gets too big."

Monica shook her head at him before kissing him.

"Hey, want to go on vacation somewhere? Or want a restaurant? I could buy you your own restaurant," Chandler offered with a grin, and Monica laughed.

"I don't usually accept a restaurant from a guy before a first official date," Monica countered, her arms still around his neck, his around her waist.

"Well, in that case, want to go grab some dinner?"

"We just ate."

"Ah," Chandler nodded. "Tomorrow night?" he asked, more seriously, and she nodded. "Is it…is it weird that his feels so right?"

Monica shrugged. "A little. But, we've been friends for so long, it's not like we're starting from nothing. It almost seems…easier."

Chandler nodded in agreement. "I was thinking it felt easy, too. Too easy."

"Maybe that's how it's supposed to work."

"Oh, just wait. I'm king of screwing things up."

Monica smiled. "Well, if you put up with me, I'll put up with you."

"Put up with you? Mon, you are _always_ a ray of sunshine," he grinned sarcastically, and she raised her eyebrows in response. "A neurotic, anal ray of sunshine," he corrected.

"Hey!"

"My neurotic, anal ray of sunshine," he added, kissing the top of her head. "Do I seem like the kind of guy who could pull off driving a really cool car?" he asked, pulling away.

"You want to drive a really cool car in the city?"

Chandler shook his head. "No, not really. But saying that out loud probably makes me less of a man," he shrugged.

"I'll put up with you, if you put up with me?"

"Hey, now!"

Monica just laughed. "I think there's some pizza left if you're hungry."

"Think we should let everyone else back in?" Chandler asked as they headed back into the living room.

"Or, we could just leave the door locked the rest of the night and be alone."

"Is that mean?"

Monica shrugged. "They'll survive."

Chandler stopped, pulling on Monica's hand so she would turn and face him. "I know we were joking about it before, but…I really do manage to screw up the worst when things are going the best."

Monica nodded. "I know. But I know you. We'll be okay."

"Promise?"

"I'd bet about 10 million on it."

"Hey, no betting my money," he laughed, Monica leaning in to kiss him. "Okay, you can bet my money," he added, leaning down to kiss her again.

~.~

_I think I had intended this to be only 5 or 6 chapter, but…we're on chapter 6, and I'm not done yet, so that was obviously a lie. Maybe 10 chapters? We'll see how the rest pans out…. Reviews? Please and thanks. :)_


	7. Chapter 7

**Night Moves**

**Chapter 7**

~.~

_Thanks for the reviews so far, and keep them coming, please. :) This story has taken on a slightly lighter tone than originally intended, but I'm just gonna go with it. Also, Emily J pointed out that the reason for the increase in traffic here lately may be because of the reruns on at night now. Whatever the case, welcome! Stay and play awhile. :)_

_Classes start back up this week for me, so sorry for any delays after this part. I'll try to update as soon as possible (both this and my other stories)._

~.~

"How do I not have a dream?"

Monica's eyes fluttered open at that, having been nearly asleep. "Hm?"

"How do I _not_ have a dream?" Chandler repeated his sentiment from their earlier conversation as she sat up in bed beside him. "How do I not know what it is in life that would fulfill me?"

"Do you feel completely unfulfilled at the moment?" Monica asked, slightly confused by the question.

Chandler shook his head. "In my personal life, no," he paused, "and a bit more so due to recent developments," he smiled at her. "But professionally…" he trailed off. "Okay, this is going to sound pretty morbid, but after reading my dad's obituary online, I started reading the other obituaries from the same day, and…" he trailed off, trying to formulate his thoughts into words. "There were some obituaries that were short and just made the people in them sound so…unfulfilled. Unfinished. And then there were others that were long and filled with lives full of loved ones left behind and lives full of living with purpose and leaving something…just leaving _something_ behind."

"You're right, completely morbid," Monica nudged him.

Chandler smiled. "I'm trying to be serious."

"I know," Monica nodded. "I don't know what to tell you, Chandler," she finally conceded after a moment of silence.

"It's not like I want to change the world or anything. I just, I want to do…I want to do _something_. And it might not be something that matters in the grand scheme of things, but I want it to matter. Or at least matter to me."

"You'll figure it out eventually," Monica leaned over, kissing him softly on the lips.

"Eventually," Chandler nodded. "Kind of like this."

"What?"

"This. Us. Eventually," he replied. "Don't tell me you never wondered about the possibility of this before," he added, voice serious. "I didn't flirt with myself for the past seven years."

Monica smiled at that. "Of course it had crossed my mind a time or two…."

"And it worked itself out. Eventually," he kissed her again.

"You know, for how well you do the funny thing, you're not half bad at the serious thing."

"It's a gift, really," Chandler grinned, and Monica laughed slightly.

"Go to sleep," she hit him softly with her pillow before replacing it below her head. "_Some_ of us have to work in the morning."

"Do I sense some hostility, Mon?"

"Goodnight, Chandler," she tried to hold back a laugh.

"Night, Mon."

~.~

Rachel stood in her living room, staring at Chandler in both disbelief and jealousy. "So, you just quit your job."

"Yep," he grinned, sitting on the couch, eating a bowl of cereal.

"You just-you just quit your job. That you hate," she reiterated, Chandler nodding.

"Any idea what you're going to do now?" Phoebe asked.

Chandler shook his head from side to side. "Not a clue."

"How much money did you dad leave you?" Phoebe asked, knowingly.

"But you quit your job," Rachel ignored Phoebe's comment.

"I'm going in to clean out my office today."

"Was it scary?" she asked, sitting beside him.

"Terrifying and exhilarating."

"Do you think I could quit my job?" Rachel asked, and Chandler nodded.

"Money, Rach, money," Phoebe attempted to butt back into the conversation. "His dad left him money."

"But he quit his job! That he hates! Maybe more than I hate my job!"

Chandler shrugged. "Eh, you might do more actual work than I do."

"Have you ever been to Central Perk while I'm working?" Rachel asked.

"I can never tell whether you're working or not when we're there."

"Exactly," she nodded. "So, you think I could do it?"

"Definitely," he nodded. "Didn't you want a career in fashion or something?" Rachel nodded. "Is Central Perk getting you any closer to that?" she shook her head. "Then quit! Send out your resume! See what happens!"

"I feel like you should maybe do the latter two things before the former," Phoebe added.

Chandler turned to face her. "Since when are you the voice of reason?"

Phoebe sighed heavily. "Well _someone_ has to be in a conversation between the two of you," she motioned between them. "But yay for following your dreams and all that stuff," she added happily, getting up to leave the conversation and the apartment.

Rachel turned back towards Chandler. "So, did you give, like, a big speech?"

"Eh, more of just a pleasant conversation with my boss," he shrugged. "But _you_ should _definitely_ give a speech…."

~.~

"Hey!" Chandler greeted Monica from her living room as she returned from work.

"Hey," she replied, slightly less enthused.

"Bad day?" Chandler asked, walking around to the other side of the couch as Monica slouched back against it.

"Bad career move taking this job," she sighed as she flung her blond wig onto the coffee table behind her before removing her coat.

"At least your boobs look really big in this shirt?" Chandler joked, and Monica pulled out the padding of her fake boobs, hitting him playfully over the head with them before throwing them behind her beside the wig. "You should quit."

"I know you had some great epiphany, Chandler, but you can't just tell all of us to quit our jobs, too."

"Talk to Rachel?"

"Phoebe, actually. She came and had lunch at the diner."

"Ah," Chandler nodded. "Sorry. It's just that you're such a great chef, and you've had great jobs, and I know you're capable of so much more than that stupid diner."

Monica smiled. "Thank you. I needed that."

"Then you agree that you should quit."

"I need another job first, Chandler," Monica sighed. "I wouldn't have taken this job if I wasn't desperate for money. I can't afford to quit." At the look on his face, and the thought that was surely crossing his mind, Monica shook her head. "Don't even offer me money. I don't want to have to turn you down."

Chandler nodded, pausing for a moment. "You know I would have offered regardless of what has happened between us lately."

Monica nodded. "I know. And I would have turned you down, anyway."

Chandler smiled. "I know."

"Are we still on for dinner tonight?"

"Of course," Chandler leaned closer to her, kissing her. "You should wear that black dress," he traced from her collarbone on one side down into a deep V, then up on the other side, drawing a line that implied a halter dress with a decent amount of cleavage.

Monica smiled before kissing him again, knowing the dress he was referring to, and impressed that he could reference a specific dress that she owned.

"I got something for you," Chandler mumbled against her lips, not breaking the kiss.

"Is it in your pocket, or are you just happy to see me?" Monica joked as he leaned into her, deepening the kiss as she moved from leaning up against the back of the couch to sitting on the back of the couch.

"Well, it is in my pocket, but," Chandler laughed slightly in reply in between kisses, leaning between her legs as she wrapped them around his back. "Have to say," he breathed out between kisses, "you wearing a skirt is my favorite part of your horrible job," he pointed out, kissing her again, cutting off her laugh at that as his hands worked their way up her thighs.

"C'mon, guys, lock the door," Ross's voice broke them apart, having not heard the door open. "I don't wanna see that," he grumbled as he immediately turned back around, slamming the door shut behind him.

Chandler shrugged as Monica stood up, walking to the other side of the couch. "That's one way to get rid of everyone."

"Everyone but Joey, maybe," she pointed out, moving to pick up her discarded wig and fake boobs, pausing at what she saw on the table in front of where he had been sitting. "Course catalogs for Columbia and NYU?" she asked, looking up at him.

Chandler smiled sheepishly. "I think I'm going back to school."

"Really? For what?"

Chandler shrugged, giving a short laugh as he moved closer to her. "Not really sure yet. I just figured I'd take a few classes and see. Lots of people say they'd want to go back to school, if only they had the time or the money, and I seem to have run into some of each lately, so," he shrugged. "Maybe I'll figure out my dream."

Monica nodded, smiling sincerely. "Good plan."

"Oh, hey, I did get you something while I was out today," he reached into his pocket, pulling out what was unmistakably a blue velvet jewelry box.

"Chandler," she shook her head, but Chandler stepped forward, handing it to her anyway. "It's too much."

"Are you going to turn it down before you even open it?"

Monica smiled slightly as she took the box, opening it to reveal a silver necklace with a single sapphire stone.

"Okay," Chandler began slowly. "This is the corniest thing I've ever thought, let alone said out loud, but," he took a deep breath, "it reminded me of you, because it was the same color as your eyes, and once I saw it, I had to get it. There. I got it out. That sounded so corny even I don't want to sleep with me tonight."

Monica laughed, reaching up to touch his cheek before kissing him. "Is that really why you bought it?" Chandler nodded, cheeks reddening slightly. "Then it's not corny, it's sweet."

"It's still a little corny."

Monica shrugged. "Well, I like you sweet and slightly corny, then," she kissed him once more. "I need to go get ready for dinner. Where are we going?"

"I was thinking…your favorite restaurant?"

"Also too much," Monica replied with a smile.

"Well, I just inherited ten million dollars, and I have no dreams, so if I want to spend some of it on one of my favorite people, I will."

"_One_ of your favorite people?" Monica asked, competitiveness and wanting to be the best getting the best of her.

"Well, there's still Joey…."

"Ah," Monica laughed "I'm going to get ready now. Thank you for the necklace," she kissed him once more before pulling away, heading towards the bathroom.

"You're welcome."

"Oh, and you should start in the back of the course catalog when you're deciding what classes to take," she added before disappearing into the bathroom, closing the door behind her.

Chandler grabbed one of the course catalogs, opening it to the last few pages, wondering what she meant by that. He smiled at the last course listing: Writer's Workshop. Chandler smiled, remembering his teenage self admitting to her teenage self late one night that following in his mother's footsteps wouldn't be the worst thing ever, and that he thought he was just funny enough and just good enough of a writer to make it happen.

Chandler smiled, slightly touched that she remembered, but also slightly saddened that he hadn't in any way pursued that before.

~.~

"Did you just slip him money?" Monica, who had worn the dress Chandler requested, whispered to him as he returned to her side after speaking to the host at the restaurant.

Chandler grinned. "Yep. Told him I spoke to him earlier on the phone about a last minute reservation. He said it will be just a moment. May have been the smoothest thing I've pulled off in my life."

Monica laughed at that, leaning in to kiss him. "Know what I just realized?'

"What?"

"Oh, no."

"Oh, no, what?" Chandler asked, slightly panicked at her sudden change in tone. Tonight was supposed to be perfect, and he felt like he'd been achieving that so far.

"Monica. Chandler."

Chandler nearly froze before forcing himself to turn and fully face the familiar voice behind him, knowing immediately who it was: Richard.

"Hi, Richard," Chandler greeted him, reaching out to accept the handshake Richard had offered, other arm tightening around Monica territorially.

"He-hey," Monica stumbled out a greeting, caught off-guard, having not seen him since they broke up.

"How have you been?" Richard asked, gaze directed more towards Monica than Chandler.

"Good. Good," Monica nodded, glancing up at Chandler then back to Richard. "You?"

"Good," Richard nodded in reply. "I'm actually meeting Michelle and her husband for dinner," he motioned behind them, and Monica turned, giving a slight wave to his daughter, who was watching them. "It was good to see you guys," he added before leaving quickly.

"Sir, your table is ready." Chandler turned around, glancing at Monica only once before being led to their table in silence.

Both Monica and Chandler continued to sit in silence for a moment after their drink order had been taken, and it was Monica who finally broke it, sensing what more than likely was going on in his head.

"I'm here with _you_," she pointed out softly. Chandler only nodded slightly. "I'm going to point out one more thing, and then we're going to drop the subject of Richard completely, okay?" Chandler again nodded. "When he and I started dating, he pointed out the easy affection between the two of us," she looked him in the eye. "He didn't specifically use the word jealous, but that's the general direction where that conversation headed," she added, and Chandler smiled slightly at the thought of Richard being jealous of him. "And I'm here with _you_," she added, reaching for his hand across the table, playing with his left ring finger between her own fingers, as if silently adding, _I married you_.

Chandler smiled. "I know," he replied softly. "It's just, I know we said this, us, felt easy, but this…this is a little weird. Because I always liked Richard. I thought he was a great guy. That money thing earlier with the host? Learned that from him. So, this…this is weird. I'm suddenly jealous of a guy I really liked because-because he had you first."

Monica smiled at that. "But-"

"I know," Chandler sighed, squeezing her hand. "I'm sorry. I really don't want to mess up tonight."

"You're not," Monica reassured him.

"Okay," he breathed out a sigh of relief, releasing her hand as he reached for his menu. He smiled slightly as a thought crossed his mind: He had now made Richard Burke jealous, not once, but twice. Him. Chandler. Made ridiculously smooth and awesome Richard jealous.

Glancing over the menu, he continued to smile to himself. Not only had he made Richard jealous, but he was the one here with Monica. He was dating Monica Geller. He was _married to_ Monica Geller. Glancing up, in the direction of Richard's table, he caught Richard's eye, having obviously been watching them. Richard gave a nod of silent approval to Chandler, who smiled slightly in response, before turning his attention back to the woman in front of him. Monica looked up from her menu, returning his smile.

Dream or no dream, he had Monica.

~.~

_In memory of my aunt, a wonderful woman who lost her fight with cancer on Thursday, and was one of those lucky people whose obituary alone could even paint a picture of a wonderful life of fulfillment. -In the arms of an angel, may you find some comfort here.-_


	8. Chapter 8

**Night Moves**

**Chapter 8**

~.~

_Funny story…I've opened a new Word document about ten times intending to start this chapter, but even though I know EXACTLY how the rest of this fic pans out….no words. None. Nothing comes out. So, I've closed each empty document in frustration and moved on to less productive things like, say…pinterest, haha. Not really helping with the writer's block thing, but it's a spectacularly efficient way to waste some time. :)_

_Anywho (also, in my quest to end my writer's block, I was reading some of my old stories, and, even in the oldest ones, like, when I was 14 and 15, I often started the second paragraph of my AN with the phrase, 'Anywho…' So, apparently, some things don't change…oh, that was SO OFF TOPIC), thank you ALL for the reviews and alert/favorite adds! I'm trying SO hard to update this as often as I possibly can! I really, truly appreciate every single one of you who takes the time to read this, especially if you take the time to review. Your kind words are the reason I choose to still play around on this site. :)_

~,~

"Mm, why don't we always shower together?" Chandler asked, standing in Monica's shower under a hot stream of water as she washed his hair, rubbing his scalp with the pads of her fingers. "I mean, we've lived approximately ten steps away from each other for years. This could have been a daily ritual for years."

"Can you imagine how high our water bills would be if we did this every day?" Monica asked as Chandler dipped his head beneath the stream of water, letting the water rinse the shampoo away.

"Worth it," he replied as he turned to face her, pressing his hot lips to the nape of her neck.

"Jury's still out…" Monica replied softly.

"Is that so?" Chandler pulled back, and Monica nodded, smiling playfully. He leaned in, kissing her neck again, trailing kisses up it and along her jaw line, finally landing on her mouth, kissing her hard. He ran his hands across her breasts, pausing as he brushed his fingertips across her nipples, before trailing his hands down her sides, digging his fingertips in just below her ribcage, tickling her.

Monica laughed, squirming to get away, but she was all but pinned against the wall by him. "Chandler," she forced out between laughs. "Chandler stop. I'm really ticklish," she added, still laughing as he tickled her.

Monica reached out, grabbing hold of him, running her hand down the length of him, and he immediately stopped tickling her.

"Well, if you're going to do that, you can pretty much have your way on anything," he mumbled, closing his eyes in pleasure.

No sooner had he closed his eyes, though, than Monica start tickling him, instead.

Chandler laughed, completely caught off guard, struggling to grab her arms to get her to stop. "Mean, mean, mean," he laughed, wrapping his arms around her completely, and Monica relaxed into his embrace, the water running over them now cold. Chandler pressed his lips into her wet hair before pulling back slightly to look down at her. "I don't think I've ever had this fun with someone. Ever."

Monica smiled, eyes locked with his. "Ditto."

Chandler leaned down, planting a soft kiss on her lips. "Huh. Is this what they refer to as a healthy relationship?"

"You know, it might just be," Monica smiled.

Chandler nodded. "Always wondered what that was like…."

~.~

"You haven't told your parents we're together?" Chandler asked, arms folded across his chest, standing in the middle of her kitchen.

"Technically…no," Monica shook her head, frantically scrubbing at the counter, though Chandler was sure it was cleaner than his own counter had ever been.

"And they're coming here for dinner tonight."

"Yep."

"Why didn't you tell them? Isn't that going to be all…weird when they get here? Or am I even invited to dinner?"

"Yes, of course you're invited to dinner," Monica turned back to face him. "And I managed to rope in Ross and Rachel, as well, so that should help. My mom prefers to talk to Ross, anyway," she blew her hair out of her face, returning to scrubbing.

"Mon, what's the big deal?" Chandler laughed, placing a hand on her shoulder, wondering why she was higher strung than usual, even when it came to her parents visiting.

"Well, the thing is," she paused, looking down, "they don't like you."

"Why not?" Chandler asked in shock, looking hurt.

"Chandler, I don't-I don't know," she shrugged with a sigh. "Maybe it's because you didn't make the best first impression back in college."

"Yea, I was kind of an idiot back then," he nodded. "But, so was Ross, and they like him better than you."

"Hey!" Monica turned around, pinching his arm.

"Hey!"

"It might be true, but you are not allowed to say it," she pointed her yellow-gloved finger at him, both of them looking up at a knock on the door.

Chandler moved to answer it, pulling open the door to reveal Ross. "Look who learned to knock," he laughed.

"Yea, well, third time's a charm," he shook his head. "Still can't get the image of your bare ass out of my head," he made a face. "And I can no longer sit on half of the furniture in this room," he added before turning to Monica. "Hey, Mon, how, exactly, did you manage to pull me into having dinner with Mom and Dad tonight? Rachel and I had plans…"

"They just couldn't turn down an opportunity to see their favorite son," Monica replied bitterly. "Oh, and they asked if you could bring Ben, who Mom made a point to emphasize is their _only grandchild_."

Ross shook his head. "I'll call Carol." He looked around the apartment, frowning. "Is Rachel not here? I went down to the coffeehouse, but she wasn't working. I swore she was today."

As if on cue, Rachel opened the door, full tray in hand and apron still on, looking completely disheveled. The other three remained silent, waiting for an explanation.

"I don't think that's what we ordered," Chandler finally quipped quietly, motioning to the drinks still on her tray.

Rachel's head snapped towards him. "That's funny, Chandler. Really funny," she nodded, taking a step towards him. "Know what else is funny?"

Chandler took a step backwards, closer to Monica. "Something else I might have said?" he asked quietly.

"Oh, you know, when you convinced me to quit my job!"

"You quit your job?" Ross asked.

"You quit your job?" Monica echoed.

Rachel nodded, setting the tray down on the kitchen table as she sunk down into one of the chairs. "I just-I was standing there, listening to Gunther explain to me where to put the trays, and which pot of coffee is decaf, and-and I just, I couldn't do it anymore," she shook her head. "And I quit. And then I walked around the block. With this tray. Freaking out. And here I am," she nodded. "I don't have a job. He's probably going to charge me for those cups," she motioned to the table.

"We'll take the cups back downstairs," Monica reassured her.

"Yea, don't worry about that," Chandler added. "You quit your job! Your terrible job that you hate!"

"Yea, but my terrible job that I hate paid my bills. Kind of," she sighed heavily, Ross moving to her side.

"Hey, it'll be okay," he said softly as he sat down beside her, taking her hand. "You'll never have to serve another cup of coffee in your life, you know?"

"Yea," Rachel nodded. "You're right. You're right! It's a good thing," she smiled at Ross, who leaned over, kissing her cheek.

"This, uh, this might not be the best time to tell you this, but…we're having dinner with my parents here tonight," he added quickly, standing up. "I'm gonna call Carol and see if she can just drop Ben off here later. Mon, you gonna be here?" he asked, not waiting for a response as he grabbed the phone, heading for the other room.

Rachel turned towards Monica, who shook her head. "Don't look at me. I don't want to have dinner with them tonight, either."

"If it's any consolation, they apparently hate me," Chandler added. "At least they don't hate you."

Rachel nodded, standing up with a sigh as she headed towards her room. "That actually does help, thanks."

~.~

"Hey," Chandler greeted Carol with a smile, opening the front door for her.

"Hey," she replied, holding a sleeping Ben, diaper bag over her shoulder as she looked around the apartment. "Ross said Monica would be here…"

"Oh, yea, she's showering," he motioned towards the bathroom.

Carol looked at him hesitantly. "I can stay and wait."

Chandler almost laughed. "I swear I won't take him on any form of public transportation if you don't want to wait."

Carol smiled at that. "How about nowhere beyond the front door."

Chandler nodded. "I can work with that."

Carol slowly handed him a still sleeping Ben, setting the diaper bag on the couch. "Hey, Ross told me about your dad. I'm sorry to hear about that."

"Thanks," Chandler replied softly.

"He also told me about you and Monica," she added with a smile. "Which I think is kind of great."

"Yea," Chandler nodded. "It kind of is."

Carol laughed slightly at that. "This is going to sound crazy, but when Monica started hanging out with us in college, I mentioned something about the two of you to Ross. I think he about had an aneurysm."

"He's walked in on us three times in the past few weeks. Pretty sure he's on his way to his second aneurysm."

Carol laughed. "It's good for him. He gets his way far too often."

Chandler nodded. "You're telling me."

"Hey, um, if you're okay here, I am going to take off," Carol added, looking at the time. "Since Ross offered to take Ben, we made plans, and I'm kind of running late…."

"Yea, no, go ahead," Chandler nodded. "Have fun."

"Dinner with the Gellers? You have fun," Carol added with a smile. "Bye, Ben, love you," she leaned in to kiss the top of his head before heading towards the door. "Bye, Chandler."

"See you later." Chandler looked down at the sleeping baby, moving slowly towards the couch. "Wanna watch some TV?" he asked Ben softly, grabbing the remote. "You're sleeping. And wouldn't understand me, anyway," he shook his head, turning on the TV.

Monica paused after opening the bathroom door, smiling at the sight of Chandler sitting on the couch, feet up on the coffee table in front of him, Ben still asleep in his lap, watching a hockey game on TV. She smiled, a familiar warmth washing over her, a feeling she seemed to be getting more often lately when Chandler was around, which was often. Glancing at the scene once more, wondering, for a fleeting moment, if this was a scene she would see again in their future, she tried to convince herself that it was too early to be thinking of that, too early to think that the earlier feeling could be attributed to love.

But…they had started off the relationship by getting married, so the timeline seemed to be skewed at any rate.

Chandler craned his neck to look back at her, smiling as she caught his eye.

Monica crossed the room, sitting next to him on the couch, in her robe, hair still wet from her shower, leaning over to kiss him softly on the lips.

Chandler smiled against her lips before she pulled back. "Did your shower help? You seem to be, uh, calmer than earlier…."

Monica nodded. "Yea. Yea, it did." _I love you_, she added in her head, wanting to say it, but not wanting to scare him. It was too soon. And, although the Chandler he had been lately seemed to be less scared of things like this, she knew the old Chandler was still under there, and she didn't want to scare him.

"Good," he smiled warmly at her.

Monica again nodded. "I'm gonna go get dressed."

"Kay," Chandler replied slowly, sensing there was more on her mind.

"Okay," she nodded, reaching out to touch Ben's hand before standing up. "Okay…."

~.~

"Monica!" Judy greeted her daughter as she and Jack walked into Monica's apartment.

"Hi, sweetie," Jack added, giving her a hug.

Judy looked around. "Ross and Rachel not here yet?"

"No, they had to go back to Ross's to grab Ben's high chair," Monica explained.

"How is my only grandbaby," Judy walked over to the couch, where Chandler was still holding Ben, though he was now awake, taking the baby from him. "Chandler, are you joining us for dinner?" she asked, seeming shocked at his presence, which she had just noticed.

"I-I am," he nodded as he stood up, suddenly nervous around the Gellers with his newfound knowledge of their opinion of him.

"Huh," Judy nodded, turning back towards Monica. "I thought you said your boyfriend was joining us. Did something happen between last night when I talked to you and tonight?"

"Nope," Monica shook her head, moving to Chandler's side, wrapping her arm around his waist. "He's here."

Both Judy and Jack studied the pair, trying to decide what to think of them.

"Well, at least he's your age," Judy finally said before turning towards the kitchen. "So, Monica, what did you make for dinner? Are you still just working at that tacky little diner? At least the tuition for that culinary school is worth _something_…."

Monica balled up her fists, making a move towards the kitchen, but Chandler held her back. Sighing, she turned to look at him, her parents pre-occupied with Ben. "It's going to be a long night…."

~.~

Monica slid beneath the covers as she curled up in bed beside Chandler, snuggling up beside him.

"Sorry my parents were so…themselves," she offered a soft apology, resting her head on his chest.

"S'okay. I knew what to expect, at least," he leaned down kissing her forehead.

"And I think I had it wrong. I think it's me that they don't like, not you," she sighed.

"Oh, come on, Mon. Your mom's only so hard on you because she cares." Monica scoffed. "You know they love you."

Monica sighed. "I know," she breathed out slowly. "And they seem to like you a bit more now that you mean I might not be alone forever." Chandler laughed slightly at that, moving so he could look at her.

"And so Ben can have a cousin," he added the next topic of conversation.

"Sorry about that part, too," Monica added.

"It's okay," he whispered in reply, brushing a strand of hair from her face with his fingertips, tracing the outline of her face before leaning down to kiss her.

Monica wrapped her arms around his neck, holding him close, his lips lingering close to hers. "I love you," she breathed out in a whisper before she was even aware of what was being said. Chandler pulled back slightly at that. "I didn't-I wasn't-"

Chandler cut her off, holding his finger to her lips. "I love you, too."

Monica's lips curled slightly into a smile. "You're not-you're not just saying that?"

"Monica, how long have you known me? If I didn't mean it, would I say it?"

"No," she smiled, shaking her head. "You would probably be paying to fix a Chandler-shaped hole in my door, though."

Chandler grinned at that. "I would deny it, but," he shrugged.

Monica sat up slightly. "I've got to admit, you not freaking out about all of this stuff, and being so calm…is kind of freaking me out a little bit. Like, I'm afraid you're holding it all inside, and it's going to come out as one giant, super freak out."

Chandler laughed at that, sitting up, as well. "You know, it's funny. I'm kind of surprising myself by not feeling that freaked out. I think it's," he paused, taking a deep breath. "I think it's losing my dad. It really-it really shook me up and made me think about, well, everything in my life, and how all of these things I put off until 'someday' are things that could just as well happen now, because who knows if there will even ever be a 'someday,' and," he shrugged, at a loss. "I want-I want all of that stuff…with you. And I want to be happy. And, I'm not sure that I'll ever completely be a grown up, but I think-I think I'm ready to stop being such a whiny kid."

Monica smiled at that. "Well, I know that I never thought I'd see the day when Chandler Bing decided to grow up…."

"Ha ha," he smiled at her as she settled back into his arms. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight."

"I love you."

"I love you, too."

~.~

_Yes, yes, I am aware…lots of happiness and not much conflict. Can it all be so easy? Well, I'll give you a hint: I think, based on what I have planned out for the rest of this, we're only about halfway there._

_Reviews? Please and thanks. :)_


	9. Chapter 9

**Night Moves**

**Chapter 9**

~.~

_Uh…I'm struggling with this one. My words are not cooperating, and my attention in this fandom is waning. Sigh. I swear, I'm trying, though. Apologies if this part is not so great…the short scenes were intentional, but I feel like it may have sounded better in my head than in execution…._

_Thank you so much for the review so far! I appreciate them all so, so much. :) It's really not the norm to break 100 around here anymore, so, thanks for that! And it's incredibly motivating. I really do feel bad when I keep you guys waiting so long…thank you for sticking with me, anyway. :)_

~.~

Rachel sunk down into the couch in her apartment, pulling a blanket up to her chin, careful not to spill from the very full, over-sized margarita glass in her hands as Phoebe joined her on the couch, Monica taking a seat in the chair, chick-flicks and alcohol all ready to go for their girls' night sleepover.

"I'm telling you," Rachel shook her head, "waitressing at Central Perk was like a dream compared to this new job."

"It can't be _that_ bad," Phoebe reassured her, taking a drink of her own margarita.

"I'm still making coffee, only here, I'm making it reusing the same filter until it falls apart."

Monica made a face at that. "Please tell me you're making that up."

Rachel shook her head. "I wish I were exaggerating. Oh! And, I get to walk Mira, the arthritic seamstress, to the bathroom every ten minutes, which is the most exciting part of my day," she sighed. "I feel like I should just go back to Central Perk. At least that didn't feel _quite_ so demeaning, since my title was waitress instead of a very misleading _administrative assistant_…."

"You want to talk demeaning jobs?" Monica asked, raising her eyebrows.

"No, nope," Phoebe cut the conversation off at that. "This is not a pity party. This is a fun night with no boys," she looked from Monica to Rachel, who both nodded obediently.

"Okay, Phoebs."

"Okay, Phoebs."

"Okay," Phoebe grinned, clapping her hands together after setting her drink on the coffee table. "So, Mon, how much money did Chandler's dad leave him?"

"Phoebe!" Rachel scolded her. "You can't ask that!"

"What? It must have been a lot!" Phoebe defended herself. "He quit his job that he's been bitching about for years, and he's not exactly looking for a new one right now. And he's not, ya know, the ballsiest person ever. Hell, it took him, what, seven years to finally do something about Monica, and they were drunk!"

"Hey!" Monica shot back, but quickly backed down with a shrug, knowing she was right.

"I think," Rachel began, taking another drink, "the better question is…what is Chandler _like_?"

Monica pursed her lips, but then stopped, shaking her head. "Nope, can't do it. It's too weird."

"We need to get her drunk first," Phoebe nudged Rachel.

Rachel clasped her hands together, careful not to spill her drink. "Ooh, I love Drunk Monica!"

~.~

Chandler turned slightly in his chair as the front door of his apartment opened slowly, smiling at her through the dim light of the television in the otherwise dark apartment.

"What are you still doing up?" Monica asked, moving to where he was seated, climbing on top of him in the chair so that she was straddling him.

"Couldn't sleep," Chandler confessed as Monica planted kisses down his neck. "Not used to sleeping over here. Or alone," he added, sliding his hands beneath the camisole she was wearing and up her bare back, reclining the chair as she pulled at his boxers. "Done with girls' night?"

"Yea, Rachel passed out an hour ago," she replied between hungry kisses.

"Not you, though?"

"Nah, I'm a champ," she grinned before kissing him again.

"That's my girl," he laughed, allowing her to undress him as they continued to kiss.

~.~

"Monica!" Chandler exclaimed loudly as she and Rachel walked through the front door of his and Joey's apartment, where they were having Joey's birthday party. From the few guests who had arrived, it was clearly just beginning. "Monica's here!" he nudged Phoebe, who was standing beside him at the breakfast bar, half-empty tray of Jello shots in front of them.

Monica approached them slowly. "Are you drunk already?"

"Yep! Me and Phoebe are going shot for shot!" he nodded, wrapping his arm around Monica's waist. "Jello just like Mom used to make!" he motioned towards the remaining shots.

Monica turned to Phoebe. "Why aren't you drunk?"

"Oh, please. I can hold my alcohol, unlike your lightweight boyfriend," Phoebe brushed off such a ridiculous question. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to make myself a _real_ drink," she moved away from them and towards the drink table that was set up on the other side of the room.

"Phoebe got me drunk," Chandler nodded, leaning back against the counter, hands on either side of Monica's waist.

"And why is that?" Monica asked, slightly amused.

"Oh, to get into my pants."

"You're really only funnier when you're drunk, when I'm drunk, too," Monica teased.

"She's trying to get me to tell her how much money my dad left me," Chandler shrugged. "And, we can fix the affore-afform- we can fix that problem," he reached back, handing her a Jello shot.

"I thought we've established that the two of us drunk results in bad decision making," Monica smiled, but took the shot anyway.

Chandler smiled, snaking his arm around her back to pull her closer. "I've made worse decisions," he muttered quietly before kissing her, hands running down her sides to either side of her waist. "We should get out of here," he whispered against her ear before kissing her again.

"Monica!" The two immediately broke apart at the sound of Ross's angry voice. "Tell me more about this Mark guy."

"Who?" Monica asked, having no idea what Ross was referring to.

"Oh, just the guy Rachel met while having lunch at the diner, who is trying to steal her from me!"

"Ross, that's ridiculous," Monica shook her head. "He offered to get her a job interview. She was just in the right place at the right time. He was being a nice guy."

"Right," Ross laughed. "Chandler, do guys do nice things for random, hot girls without the possibility of sex crossing their mind?"

Both Monica and Ross turned to Chandler for an answer. Chandler swallowed slowly, reaching for two more Jello shots. "I'm entirely too drunk to take sides in a Geller argument. Here, take shots!" he handed them each one, but Ross just sighed and walked away, heading towards Joey in hopes of Joey backing him up.

"Joey!"

Monica and Chandler turned towards the door as seven very noisy, nearly identical girl entered.

"Whoa, how many of that girl are you seeing?"

Monica smacked Chandler's arm. "Are you seriously that wasted? Those are Joey's sisters," she shook her head at him. "Let's get you some food…."

~.~

Monica and Chandler began kissing as soon as they entered Monica's apartment, Chandler having sobered up quite a bit since earlier in the night.

"_Oh my god, Ross, Mark is not trying to sleep with me!"_ Rachel's voice carried through her bedroom door, where she and Ross were clearly still fighting, as they had been all night.

The two broke apart, the moment clearly ruined.

"I have an idea," Chandler grabbed the bottle of wine that was on her counter, as well as two glasses. "Grab your coat," he motioned, knowing they wouldn't be alone in his apartment, either, since the party was still going on (well, mostly just Joey and his sisters, a very noisy group), but having an idea for where they could go.

~.~

Chandler wrapped his arms around Monica as she leaned against the edge of the building, taking in the view from their roof. Monica squeezed his arm, thankful for the added warmth, though it was actually not as cold as it could have been for that time of year. They both stood in comfortable silence in the darkness, their half-empty wine glasses and a nearly empty bottle on the ground beside a random lawn chair that hadn't been taken inside when summer ended.

"Why do you think Phoebe's so stuck on finding out how much money your dad left you?" Monica was the one to break the silence.

Chandler laughed. "Maybe she's just, you know, scoping out her options," he grinned. "Why, jealous?"

Monica turned to face him in time to see the smirk on his face. "Of Phoebe?" she laughed, slightly too hard.

"Why is that so funny?"

Monica shook her head. "It's just…Phoebe's always thought you were sexy...in a sex-less kind of way."

"Huh," Chandler furrowed his brow. "Just what every man wants to hear."

"Not a bad thing," Monica reassured him. "I just think she's always kind of seen you as like…a little brother."

Chandler nodded in agreement, realizing that probably fit his feelings towards Phoebe, as well. Was she attractive? Yes. Was he attracted to her? Eh. "What about Rachel?" he asked, finishing that thought and wondering what the other third of the most prominent women in his life thought.

Monica half-shrugged. "Phoebe and I had this conversation long before Rachel moved in," she paused. "Though, Rachel did have a sex dream about you, so…"

Chandler laughed, and then smiled coyly. "And what, exactly, were your feelings towards me that you discussed with Phoebe years ago?"

Monica's lips turned up in a slight smile. "Well," she played with a button on his coat, "I think that you're smart, and you're sweet and funny and sexy," she continued on softly, staring into his eyes, "and I don't think you have any idea," she finished softly.

Chandler smiled slightly at that. "You really thought that then, too?"

Monica nodded. "You need me to say, out loud, that there's been something here for quite some time?"

"Well, I know how I felt, but I wasn't-I didn't always think that you felt the same way."

"That's part of that whole, you-having-no-idea-how-great-you-are, thing."

"Ah."

Monica leaned in to kiss him softly before pulling back. "I mean, it's not like I was pining after you for the past, what, six or seven years, but…we've had our moments, right?"

"Definitely," Chandler agreed. "Hey, um, out of curiosity, just to, you know, compare notes…can you give me one of those moments?"

Monica thought that through for a moment, smiling when one came to mind. "Carol and Susan's wedding reception," she began, Chandler smiling, very aware of what she was referring to. "We were dancing to the last song, and both you and Joey had unsuccessfully hit on every woman there, gay or straight, and everyone else had left already-"

"But you were staying to help clean up the food and stuff, and you wanted to dance-"

"And you stayed to dance with me," Monica smiled. "And we were both rather intoxicated, and you were a tad bit hands-y," she nudged him, and he smiled sheepishly, "and we slow danced, slightly too close, and, I don't know, maybe it's that we were both at a wedding without a date, and it was late, and we weren't quite sober, but I remember thinking that if you were to kiss me, right then…it probably wouldn't have stopped at that."

"Okay, so that's one moment in time I can go back to and kick myself," Chandler snorted in reply. "Because, seriously, if I had known that…I probably would have taken you right there in the middle of the dance floor." Monica laughed. "It's cute that you think I'm joking…."

Monica leaned in to kiss him again, before moving towards the lawn chair to sit down, pulling Chandler by the hand to come sit beside her. "Okay, Bing, your turn."

"Huh, well," he started slowly, rubbing his chin as he thought, "the day you found out Phoebe moved out-"

"Okay, I was basically naked, other than a towel. You don't get to use that one."

"But you were basically naked!"

"And yet you actively stopped the moment from happening with a joke."

"Well, yea. It's just…you're Monica," he explained.

"I am Monica."

"You're _Monica_," he repeated, knowing she hadn't quite understood. "You're gorgeous and passionate and warm and funny and incredible and-and one of the most important people ever to be in my life," he explained. "And I had just watched Kip get phased out of our group after you guys broke up, and then Carol after she and Ross started having problems, and I-I didn't want that to happen with us," Chandler paused, Monica's hands now in his. "This may be the single mushiest thing I've ever said out loud in my life, but…I don't know what I would do without you."

Monica remained silent, taken back by the honesty and vulnerability behind what he said, something she had treasured in the past because it was rare that he let his guard down that much, though it seemed to be a bit more common now.

"I'd be pretty lost without you, too," she finally replied in a whisper before kissing him, letting Chandler pull her back with him as he lay down, the thought crossing his mind that if Monica was up for sex on the balcony, as proved by the pair of underwear on the telephone pole, that she might be up for sex on the roof….

~.~

"I don't know," Monica admitted as she handed Chandler a cup of coffee before sitting down beside him. They had come back downstairs to warm up (after Chandler found out she was, in fact, up for sex on the roof), and they were now snuggled up on the couch, all of the lights in the apartment off, the light from the nearly full moon shining in through the windows. "Is it bad that I can't think of any blatant regrets?"

Chandler shook his head, sipping the hot coffee. "No. I mean…you're Monica. You kind of get what you want. Because you go after what you want. It's kind of-it's kind of what I admire about you."

"You realize where I currently work, right? Blonde wig, fake boobs, entrées named after classic sitcom characters? _Incredibly_ admirable."

Chandler laughed. "Yes, but it's still you going after your dream. I completely envy that in you."

"Thank you," Monica smiled, taking a drink of her coffee before setting it down on a coaster on the table. "I think I already know your biggest regret."

Chandler nodded. "My dad," he sighed. "It's normal to still be upset about this, right?"

"I think so," Monica squeezed his hand. "I mean, it's losing a parent…that's not something you get over in a day. Or a week or a month, for that matter..."

~.~

"I always wanted a sibling growing up," Chandler confessed, now lying on the couch with his head in Monica's lap. "Or a real, normal parent. But mostly I wanted a brother or sister…."

"Really?"

"Yea," he nodded, sitting back up. "I was-I was really lonely growing up. Which sounds stupid, and I always feel a little bit horrible bitching about my childhood because I had so much, and I know that, I do. But, I was always so…lonely," Chandler paused. "I don't think I've ever admitted that before."

"I always wanted to be an only child," Monica countered. "Not because I hated Ross, though we did fight when we were younger, but more because…my parents always loved him more. He was always slightly better at everything, did everything first, set the bar high, and I could never—_never_—live up to their expectations." Chandler laughed. "What?"

"It's funny, I've always envied you and Ross."

"Like I said, it's not like I hated him…and we're definitely closer now that we're grown up, but," she shrugged, "I wished him away for most of our childhood."

~.~

Monica leaned against the railing of the balcony, Chandler's arms wrapped around her from behind, a blanket wrapped around both of them, as they watched the sunrise over the city. They had now, officially, stayed up the entire night talking.

"I feel old saying this, but…I haven't watched the sun rise in years," Monica whispered as the two watched the sky changing colors, morning slowly taking over for night.

Chandler shook his head, his cheek against hers. "Me, neither," he mumbled in reply, his stubble rough against her cheek. "Maybe not since college…."

"Hey, remember your guys' graduation night?" Monica asked.

"That was probably the last time," Chandler laughed. "We stayed out all night and then watched the sunrise and talked about the future in that naïve way you only can when you're 22…."

"And Ross passed out on the roof and we left him there."

"Right," Chandler laughed. "Let's play that game again," he paused, nervous to ask the question out loud, testing the waters of their relationship. "Where do you see yourself in ten years?"

"Well," Monica began slowly, "Executive Chef somewhere, somewhere actually nice."

"Of course."

"Maybe living Upstate…."

"Kids?"

"Mmm-hmm," she nodded.

Chandler paused for a moment. "Am I there?"

"Yea."

"'Kay." He tightened his arms around her, pressing his lips against the back of her neck. "Mon?"

"Hm?"

"I'm-I'm really glad you're my wife."

At that, Monica turned around, wrapping her arms around his neck as she kissed him, before hugging him tightly, burying her cold face in his warm chest, the simple statement nearly bringing her to tears. That topic wasn't something they really talked about, having let the rest of the group believe they had gotten their marriage annulled when Ross gave Chandler his divorce attorney's information and having agreed to keep it a secret. Monica's heart raced as he planted a soft kiss on top of her head, and she smiled at their little secret that was actually a fairly big secret. "Me, too."


	10. Chapter 10

**Night Moves**

**Chapter 10**

~.~

_Um, I feel like apologizing for the length of time between updates is getting redundantly redundant, so, yea…._

_Thanks for the reviews :) I'm thinking I can wrap this up in under 15 chapters, but, we shall see…._

~.~

Chandler looked over the titles and covers of the videos at the video store, trying to remember which movie Monica has said she wanted to rent and hoping the Chinese take-out in the bag he was carrying wasn't getting cold in the process. He moved sideways, scanning the movie titles, hoping one of them would sound familiar, bumping into someone else from lack of attention to anything but the movie titles.

"Sorry," he apologized, taking a step back as he glanced up at the figure he had run into.

Richard.

Chandler laughed, shaking his head. "Yasmine Bleeth, I never run into. But you, you're everywhere..." Richard laughed at the joke. "Though, I was once trapped in an ATM vestibule with Jill Goodacre during a power outage," he paused. "Not that that has any relevance."

"You make jokes when you're uncomfortable," Richard nodded his head.

Chandler nodded in agreement. "That I do."

Richard smiled at him, having always been quite fond of Monica's friends, though there had been something about Chandler's interaction with her that had made him a bit…jealous. Not that he didn't trust both of them, he did, but he had sensed something between them. Now, obviously, not unfoundedly so. "So, you and Monica are dating, huh?"

Chandler smiled. "We, uh, we're actually married."

"Really?" Richard asked, sounding surprised. "Her parents never said anything about that."

"Right, you know her parents," Chandler caught his mistake. "I always forget that."

"Guess that means you at least don't think of me as a father-type-figure anymore," Richard joked.

"Well, you'd need an awful lot of make-up to be anything like my father. Though, you're about the right height when he's wearing heels," Chandler trailed off, and Richard chuckled. "We, uh, we kind of got married in Vegas…haven't so much told people. I'm, uh, I'm not so sure why those were the first words out of my mouth to you," he confessed.

Richard smiled. "Because I'm her ex, and you wanted to let me know that you won."

"Pretty much," Chandler laughed.

"You know, you're a good guy. I always liked you."

Chandler smiled. "Thanks. I-I always liked you, too. Well, up until you broke Monica's heart, and then I kind of wanted to kick your ass."

Richard nodded, understanding. "I'm glad," he began slowly, "I'm glad, that if I didn't get to end up with her…that she ended up with you. I meant it. You're a really good guy."

"Thank you."

"Can I give you one piece of advice?" Richard asked, and off of Chandler's look, added, "I realize you've known her a hell of a lot longer than me, and, you probably don't need it, but," he took a deep breath, "don't let her go. Trust me."

Chandler shook his head. "Wasn't planning on it."

The two men continued to stare at one another, and it was Richard who broke the silence. "It was good to see you, Chandler," he patted him on the arm as he moved to walk away. "And congratulations," he added sincerely.

"Thank you," Chandler replied, also sincerely, watching Richard leave the store. After watching him leave, Chandler decided he had no interest in watching a movie and really just needed to get home to Monica.

So, he left, nearly running the couple of blocks to their building, and then up the stairs, slowing once he reached their floor. He smiled as he walked through the door of apartment 20 and headed straight to the couch, where Monica was seated. He set the bag of take-out food on the coffee table, dropping to his knees on the couch beside her as he kissed her, hard, Monica returning his affections. He wasn't sure what it was about his run-in with Richard, but it had left him with the need to get to her as soon as possible and kiss her.

"I love you," he mumbled as he pulled back slightly, resting his forehead against hers.

"Love you, too," Monica smiled in reply. "Bad day?"

"Mm, more like interesting," he replied before kissing her again. He leaned back, pulling her on top of him as he lay down.

"Bet I can make it better," Monica whispered as her lips left his, sucking gently on his earlobe as his hands moved below her shirt.

"I think that's a bet I want to lose," Chandler mumbled in reply as she kissed her way down his chest and stomach, stopping to unfasten his belt.

"I'm telling you, Phoebs-"

Monica and Chandler both shot up on the couch at the sound of Ross and Phoebe entering.

Ross made a face. "Seriously, guys, how long is this going to last?"

"Just because you're mad at your relationship doesn't mean you have to take it out on them," Phoebe interjected, referring to the fact that he was currently complaining to her about Rachel and Mark.

"And, once again, you don't live here, so, you could knock," Chandler added.

Ross laughed stoically. "Yea, Mon, it would take about ten million dollars for me to date him, too."

Chandler looked at Ross, shocked.

"Your dad left you ten million dollars?" Phoebe asked in amazement.

"Dude!" Chandler looked at him disbelief. "I told you that in_ confidence_!" he stood up, refastening his belt as he headed past them and out the door.

Monica shook her head, following after him. "Seriously, Ross?" she scolded her brother as she headed out the door and into apartment 19, figuring that's where Chandler had gone. She was right in her assuming, finding him in the kitchen, leaning against the counter, facing away from the door.

Walking over to him, she wrapped her arms around his waist from behind. "You know that wasn't really about you, right? He's just mad at Rachel right now…."

"I know," Chandler turned to face her, returning her hug as he rested his chin on top of her head. "I ran into Richard."

"What? When?" Monica asked, pulling back slightly to look up at him.

"At the video store," Chandler explained.

"Did you talk to him?" Chandler nodded. "What did he say?"

"He, uh, he said…he said congratulations, and that, if he didn't get to end up with you, he was really glad that I did," Chandler smiled.

Monica smiled, realization setting in. "So, that's what that was about," she pointed towards the door. Chandler nodded.

"He told me I won."

"You did win."

Chandler grinned. "I never get to win…feels pretty good…."

"That's not your fault. You just spend a lot of time with me, and I win a lot."

"Sometimes…I let you win."

"You do not!"

"Do, too!"

"At what?"

Chandler shook his head. "Not telling you." He kissed the top of her head.

Monica folded her arms, shaking her head. "You don't _let_ me win…."

Chandler laughed. "Yea, okay."

"Chandler, what do you let me win at?"

"Nothing, babe," he kissed her cheek. "Should we go eat our now cold Chinese food?" he moved towards the door.

"Chandler." He shook his head, holding the door open for her to follow him back across the hall. "Chandler, tell me what you let me win at," she whined, which only caused Chandler to laugh as the headed back across the hall. "Chandler, tell me. Now!" her whine turned to demand, only making Chandler laugh harder.

~.~

Monica's need to know what Chandler let her win at had prompted a Game Night the following night with all six of them playing a plethora of games at Monica and Rachel's. Chandler, Joey, and Rachel were currently on the couch, Ross in the chair and Monica sitting on the ground as Phoebe took her turn in Pictionary.

"Seriously?" Monica motioned to the tablet, where Phoebe had drawn a string of seemingly incoherent shapes. "You guess _Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles_ from that?" she turned suddenly towards the couch as she stood up, grabbing a couple of empty plates from the coffee table to take to the kitchen.

Chandler ducked over-dramatically. "I love you and all, but, swear to god, if you throw an object at me, for a second time, while playing Pictionary, I will divorce you."

Monica set the plates down, at first crossing her arms in mock anger, before realizing the words that had come out of his mouth. Chandler's eyes went wide as he covered his mouth with his hand, realizing the same thing.

"What did he just say?" Rachel was the first to speak, motioning between the two.

"I didn't," Chandler shook his head.

"Are you two still married?" Phoebe asked excitedly.

Chandler shrugged at Monica, who nodded back at him. "Yea, we are," he grinned.

"Dude, you've been married for, like, two months?" Joey asked excitedly. "That's almost as long as Ross was married!"

"Hey! Carol and I were married a lot longer than that!" Ross defended himself. "But, I gave you the number of my divorce lawyer," he looked at Chandler.

Chandler shrugged. "I threw it away."

"Aw," Phoebe and Rachel said in unison.

"Why?" Ross asked.

"Because we didn't want to get divorced," Chandler replied, as if it should have been obvious.

"Aw, you guys!" Rachel stood up, going over to hug Monica.

"I can't believe you guys are married!" Phoebe exclaimed. "And millionaires!" she added. "And-and sitting around on a Saturday night playing Pictionary with us…."

"Yea, I would definitely go buy some new, more exciting friends with that much money," Rachel added with a laugh.

"Yea, no kidding, why are you guys still living here?" Joey asked. "And not even together?"

Monica and Chandler both shrugged, Monica finally replying for the both of them. "Because we like how things are."

"And we don't want to rush anything," Chandler added.

"Yet you got married in Vegas?" Ross asked. "That's not any kind of rushing?"

"In defense of that, we have known each other for a lot longer than most people know each other before they get married," Chandler replied.

"That's true," Phoebe nodded in agreement.

"So, this is for real?" Ross asked, looking at Chandler, who nodded. Ross finally smiled, shaking his head in disbelief. "So, we're like…brothers-in-law."

Chandler laughed. "Looks that way…."

"Dude," Ross stood up, moving to hug him. "Congratulations."

"Thanks."

"But, if you ever hurt her-"

Chandler shook his head. "Not gonna happen."

"_But_, if it does," Ross continued on. "I will kick your ass."

Chandler laughed. "Okay."

"What? I'm being serious…."

"Yea, okay," Chandler nodded.

"Can we get back to the game?" Monica asked.

"Seriously?" Rachel asked. "We find out you guys are _married_, and you just care about getting back to the game?"

"I may have admitted to sometimes letting her win, and it is now her mission to find out what I let her win at," Chandler whispered to Rachel.

"Gotcha," Rachel nodded, understanding, Monica glaring at the two.

"Yea, dude, you guys are _married_!" Joey agreed. "We should go celebrate or something!"

"Yes, drinks!" Rachel nodded. "Some place nice!"

"Chandler's treat!" Phoebe added, everyone else laughing at that.

Chandler shrugged, smiling at Monica from across the room, who returned it. Might as well celebrate now that their secret was out. "Sure, why not?"


	11. Chapter 11

**Night Moves**

**Chapter 11**

~.~

_I can't believe I'm consistently getting double-digit reviews for this story, even with the ridiculous lag-time between updates. It just completely blows my mind. Thank you all so, so much. :)_

_Aaaaand, I apologize for disappearing…end of the semester, broke my finger making it difficult to type, that kinda thing…. Excuse missing letters/typos due to the latter. My finger's still splinted, and my brain forgets that I skip typing with it, and I end up missing letters…weirdest thing ever!_

~.~

"Hey," Chandler greeted Monica as he walked into her apartment.

"Hey," she replied, concentrating on mopping her ceiling.

Chandler looked at her oddly. "Okay, I know you like things clean, Mon, but…isn't mopping the ceiling taking it a little too far?"

"Not if there's fruit on it."

Chandler continued staring at her. "How, exactly, do you get fruit on your ceiling? I mean, Joey and I could probably get fruit on the ceiling, but how did _you_ get fruit on the ceiling?"

"Well," Monica set the mop down, "after you left this morning, Rachel got up, and she told me that last night, instead of celebrating their anniversary, her and Ross broke up, or…are breaking up, or something," she explained.

"And you were so angry you threw a banana at your ceiling?"

Monica smacked his arm. "No, she caught me off guard, and I turned on the blender before putting the lid on it."

Chandler nodded. "Joey, uh, Joey already told me that," he sighed deeply. "He also said that Ross…" he trailed off.

"Ross what?"

"Well, uh, you know-you know Chloe?"

Monica nodded. "The girl from the copy place Joey dragged us to that club to hang out with last night since he wasn't sure if it was a date?"

Chandler nodded. "Well, uh, after we left, Ross showed up, and he…he…."

"Okay, Chandler, you are taking longer than Ross would take to tell this story."

Chandler smiled slightly. "Ross-Ross left with Chloe…."

"Oh. Well, that doesn't necessarily mean that-"

Chandler nodded. "It does."

"Oh, god."

"And, this morning, Rachel came over to tell Ross she doesn't want to break up…."

"Right," Monica nodded.

"And Chloe was still there."

"Oh my god!" Monica covered her mouth. "Does Rachel know?"

Chandler shook his head. "I don't think so…."

"We have to tell her! Where did she go?" Monica headed towards the door.

"Mon," he grabbed her arm. "I know you love both of them, but," he paused, "it's not really our place to tell."

Monica paused, knowing he was right. "He's telling her, right?"

Chandler shrugged. "I think so?"

"He _has_ to tell her something like that. They can't make up and get back together if he doesn't tell her that!"

Chandler nodded. "Monica, we have to let him tell her first," he repeated, knowing from the look on her face she hadn't given up on the idea of finding Rachel right away and telling her. "Wanna go get some coffee or something?"

Monica looked at him, obviously still not happy, but finally conceded. "Fine, just let me get the rest of the banana off of the ceiling first…."

~.~

After Monica finished cleaning her ceiling, she and Chandler made their way down to Central Perk, but Chandler paused, looking through the window as he pulled on Monica's shirt sleeve to stop her.

"So, Ross told Rachel, then," Chandler whispered as they watched Rachel angrily stand up from the table she had been seated at, nearly in tears as she headed quickly for the door, Ross close behind.

"Rachel, come on, let me explain!" Ross nearly yelled as he raced after her, Rachel in such a hurry to get upstairs and Ross focused so hard on going after Rachel that neither of them noticed Chandler and Monica.

Monica nodded in agreement to Chandler's earlier statement, the two staring off in the direction Ross and Rachel had headed in.

"Oh, hey!" Phoebe greeted them, also nearly running.

"Hey, Phoebs."

"Hey."

"You will never guess what Jasmine at work told me that her brother Isaac, who works at the copy place with Chloe just told me."

"Judging from what looked like the fight that just happened between Ross and Rachel before Rachel stormed upstairs, I would say it's probably what Ross just told Rachel," Chandler replied.

Phoebe's mouth went wide before she closed it. "Wait, so it's true?" she looked back and forth between Chandler and Monica, who both nodded. "Well what the hell is happening now?"

Monica shrugged. "Rachel ran upstairs, and Ross chased after her, and that's pretty much the extent of our knowledge."

"So, they're upstairs in your apartment right now?" Phoebe asked, and Monica nodded. "Your front door isn't very sound proof, is it?"

"Well, no, but-"

"Yea, don't even object," Phoebe cut Monica off. "You know you want to know what's happening…."

When Monica failed to respond, Chandler did. "I-I want to know what's happening…."

"Ha! Two against one!" Phoebe jumped up and down. "C'mon, let's go see what's going on up there!"

"You don't think we should give them some privacy?" Monica asked slowly. "I mean, they're either breaking up or making up…."

Chandler shoved his hands in his pockets. "What if it's breaking up?"

Phoebe shook her head. "They can't break up. They're Ross and Rachel."

Monica sighed, giving in to Chandler and Phoebe. "Fine…I guess it wouldn't hurt just to listen a little and figure out what's going on…."

~.~

Joey looked curiously at Chandler, Monica, and Phoebe, who were in various positions beside the door to apartment 20, ears pressed up against it, as he came up the stairs.

"What are you guys doing?" he asked slowly.

"Shh!" Phoebe, who was sitting on the floor furthest from him, shushed him, holding a finger up to her lips.

"What's going on?" he lowered his voice to a whisper, moving closer to Chandler, who was closest to him.

"Rachel found out about last night," Chandler whispered in reply, moving closer to Monica to give Joey room to listen in, as well.

"Oh," Joey's face fell. "Are they breaking up?"

"Less talking, more eavesdropping!" Monica ordered in a whisper. "It just got interesting!"

"Says the woman who was against this in the first place," Chandler quipped quietly, Monica lightly smacking his chest in response.

"Shh!" Phoebe ordered. "Oh, oh-oh!"

"What?" Monica asked, concerned.

"They're ordering pizza! We'd better move!" she explained as she stood up, the others simultaneously taking a step away from the door.

"Do you think," Joey started slowly, "that if we ordered pizza right now, too, they could just bring them together?"

"That's your main concern right now?" Monica asked.

"How do you know where they ordered it from?" Phoebe asked at the same time.

"Well, what'd they order?"

"Large pizza with anchovies," Phoebe answered him.

Joey snapped his fingers, nodding as he headed for their door. The girls both looked curiously at Chandler, who shrugged, before following him into apartment 19.

~.~

The foursome sat in the hallway still, hours later, empty pizza box just outside the open door to apartment 19, the boys sitting on either side of it, while Phoebe and Monica sat beside the door to apartment 20.

"Oh, no," Phoebe broke the silence in a whisper.

"What?" the other three replied, nearly in unison.

Phoebe shrugged. "I forgot to go to work…Eh, they'll figure it out. I'll talk to them in the morning. Family emergency or something."

"Not completely a lie," Joey replied quietly, and the other three now looked at him. "This," he pointed to their door, "feels more like a break up than a make up. What do we do…what do we do if it is?"

~.~

"Hey." Monica nudged Phoebe, who was nodding off on the other side of the door. They had now been in the hallway the entire night, with the exception of going inside when the pizza arrived and using the restroom from time to time, but there seemed to be a silent agreement that they remain there until all was resolved between Ross and Rachel.

And, finally, it felt like it was getting there.

"Guys," Monica whispered, motioning for Joey and Chandler, who were also nearly asleep, to come listen again, as well. Monica stood up, ear pressed against the door, as Chandler moved beside her, resting his hand on her hip as he pressed his ear against the door, as well. Phoebe and Joey followed suit, the group remaining silent, afraid of what implications the events still unfolding on the other side of the door had on all of them.

"_No, Ross!" Rachel's voice carried through the door. "Don't! You can't just kiss me and think you're gonna make it all go away, okay? It doesn't work that way! It doesn't just make it better, okay?"_

"_Okay, okay, okay."_

"_I think you should go."_

Monica and Phoebe gasped in unison at Rachel's statement.

"_What?"_

"_I really think you need to go now," Rachel repeated._

"_Okay, okay. This morning you said there was nothing so big that we couldn't work past it together..."_

"_Yeah, what the hell did I know?"_

"_Look, look, there's got to be a way we can work past this, okay? I can't imagine, I can't imagine my life without you. Without, without these arms, and your face, and this heart. Your good heart Rach, and, and…" he trailed off, obviously, even through the door, crying._

"_No. I can't. You're a totally different person to me now," Rachel replied, obviously crying now, as well. "I used to think of you as somebody that would never, ever hurt me, ever. God, and now I just can't stop picturing with her, I can't. It doesn't matter what you say, or what you do, Ross. It's just changed, everything. Forever."_

"_Yea, but this can't be it, I mean…."_

"_Then how come it is?"_

The four in the hallway remained silent, all also in tears. After a few moments of silence, they all moved away from the door. There was nothing left to be said, and even less for them to hear even if there were any more words to be spoken between Ross and Rachel. They slowly made eye contact through their tears, Monica being the first one to speak.

"What now?" she whispered.

"Now," Phoebe was the one to respond. "Now, I think-I think we go to bed."

"Wanna sleep on our couch?" Joey offered so that she wouldn't have to go back to her apartment alone in the middle of the night. Phoebe accepted with a slight nod.

Chandler was the first to move, leading the way into the apartment, Monica close behind, as they headed for his room, though he hadn't slept there in months, with or without her. As Monica closed the door behind them, Chandler turned to face her, wrapping his arms around her in a tight hug, which she returned, just as eagerly, burying her face in his chest, both of them silently saying, _never do that to me_.

"I'm in this for the long haul," Chandler was the one to break the silence, Monica looking up as he did, meeting his eyes with her own. "If you're ready to tell your parents, I would go buy you a ring tomorrow. I would move all of this," he motioned around his room, "over there," he pointed towards the door, "if there was room without Rachel moving out."

Monica nodded, still teary-eyed. "I know."

Chandler bit his lip. "What if…what if we… What if that…."

Monica shook her head. "We won't. It's not."

"I know." Chandler nodded slowly, taking a deep breath in and blowing it out. "What now?"

Monica shrugged, deciding Phoebe had probably been right, and there was nothing they could do right now. "I guess, right now…we sleep."

~.~

_I know, after over a month, and it's short! More soon, though, promise! Reviews? Please and thanks :)_


	12. Chapter 12

**Night Moves**

**Chapter 12**

~.~

_Thank you, thank you, thank you times a million for sticking with me through my sporadic updates, and for reviewing/favoriting/alerting…means more to me than it probably should. :) Seriously, every review alert in my inbox makes me grin._

_Oh, and an update to _Beautifully_ is coming soon…the chapter is halfway done now! Updates for _Dear Jack_ will probably be on hold until I finish this, which should be done in another three or so chapters._

~.~

Monica kissed Chandler softly on the lips as she climbed out of his bed, leaving him to sleep. It was early, the sun only now starting to rise, and after they had all been up so late, she questioned whether or not Rachel would be up yet, but didn't want to stay over there on the chance that Rachel would be up and would have to be alone after such a terrible break-up. Monica grabbed her shoes and purse as she exited Chandler's bedroom, closing the door quietly behind her. She tip-toed across the living room, past Phoebe asleep on the couch, and out the front door. Her front door was locked, so she dug through her purse for her keys and unlocked it.

"Hi." Rachel's voice was small and sad as she sat at the kitchen table, blanket draped over her shoulders, coffee cup in front of her, looking as if she hadn't slept at all.

"Hey," Monica offered softly, dropping her keys and purse on the table and setting her shoes on the floor as she sat down beside her.

"I'm guessing you heard us fighting and you guys stayed at Chandler's?" Rachel asked, averting her eyes to the coffee cup in front of her, playing with the string on the tea bag inside of it.

"Yea, we did," Monica confirmed. "Want some more tea?" she asked, referring to Rachel's empty cup, but Rachel shook her head slowly. "Are you okay, Rach?"

Rachel shook her head again. "How-how much do you know?"

"Enough."

Rachel nodded her head, glad not to have to explain, not even questioning what she heard or how. "We're over," she choked out. "I can't-I can't forgive him, so we're-we're over…."

"Oh, Rach," Monica scooted forward in her chair, reaching out to touch Rachel's arm.

"I just-I just never thought I would-I would have to go through this with _Ross_, you know? I kind of thought that this…was it…."

"I think we all did, sweetie."

"And-and I just want to sleep, because I'm so tired. I'm so tired," Rachel reiterated. "I'm emotionally exhausted, but it's like-it's like a bad hangover, you know? You really want to sleep it off, but you just can't sleep…."

"Do you want some sleeping pills?" Monica offered after a moment of silence, not sure what to say to make her feel any kind of better. "I bought some after Richard and I broke up and I couldn't sleep."

Rachel laughed. "Yes. Yes, I actually would."

Monica stood up to retrieve them from the bathroom, returning seconds later. "Do you want to talk about it yet?" she asked quietly, handing the bottle to Rachel.

Rachel shook her head. "Not yet."

Monica nodded, understanding. "Okay. When you do…."

"I know."

"I'm sorry this sucks so much," Monica added as Rachel stood up.

Rachel nodded in agreement. "I'm sorry it sucks so much, too."

~.~

For the next few weeks, Ross and Rachel avoided each other completely. They couldn't stand so much as to be in the same room as one another, which left the other four torn. They would spend one night with Ross, the next with Rachel. Friday night with Ross, Saturday with Rachel, both of them vying for their friends' affection, and Chandler had commented how the whole situation reminded him of his parents' divorce.

Rachel came out of her room on Saturday afternoon to find Monica and Chandler cuddled up on the loveseat watching TV. She smiled, glad they were both there.

"Hey," she greeted them, taking a seat on the couch.

"Hey," they replied in unison.

Rachel laughed. "Oh, if I wasn't so bitter right now, I would think you guys were cute."

"We can try to be less cute, if it would help," Chandler offered. "I mean, I'm not making any promises, but we can definitely make an effort."

Rachel shook her head and let out a slight laugh. "I, um, I actually wanted to talk to you two about something…."

"What's up?" Monica asked, after Rachel was silent for a moment.

Rachel bit her bottom lip. "I'm moving out."

"What?"

"Where are you going?" Monica asked.

"Well," Rachel smiled. "I was kind of sort of wondering if the guy across the hall would be interested in switching apartments with me since he kind of spends more time here than I do," she explained, grinning at Chandler.

Chandler nodded, pretending to mull it over. "I feel like he might be willing to work with you on that…."

"I know you guys want to live together, and you're married, for crying out loud, so you should live together! And I know neither of you is going to ask me to move out right now but," Rachel paused, taking a deep breath, "just because my life is falling apart right now doesn't mean you should stop moving forward with yours."

"Rachel…" Chandler said softly, thankfully, not sure how else to respond.

"You don't have to," Monica offered, knowing how rough things had been for all of them the past few weeks.

Rachel shook her head. "I know. I want to," she explained. "It'll be a fresh start. I mean, I know it's just across the hall, but I could probably use a change of scenery." Rachel paused. "And, I've decided that…I'm going to make an effort to be civil around Ross. I mean, I already have to have two separate parties for my parents…I don't want you guys to have to have two separate parties because of us."

"Have you…talked to Ross yet?" Monica asked softy.

"No," Rachel sighed. "Not yet. I was thinking about asking him to lunch or coffee or something. You know, for closure. Or whatever," she again sighed. "This will get easier, right?"

"Oh yea, definitely," Chandler replied, Monica nodding along.

Rachel nodded unconvincingly, picking at a loose thread on her sweater sleeve. "So," she cleared her throat with a grin, ready to get off of that subject, "how excited is Joey going to be to have a girl roommate?"

~.~

"Guess who got a job?" Monica asked excitedly as she walked through her front door.

Chandler set down the textbook he was reading, having signed up for a few intro-level college courses in an attempt to find some kind of career that interested him. "I would say you, but that makes for a really easy guessing game," he quipped as she walked around the couch to sit beside him.

"It is me!" She smacked him playfully on the arm. "No more fake boobs and blonde wigs for me!" she said as she tossed said items onto the coffee table.

"Well, not at work at least…?" Chandler asked with raised eyebrows, and Monica thought that over for a moment. "So, tell me about this job!" Chandler continued on. "Did you finally hear back from one of those places you applied at a while ago? Only Monica could leave home in the morning without even an interview set up and come home with a job…."

"Well, it's true," Monica grinned.

"Was it your modesty that won them over?"

"Do you want me to tell you about the job?"

"Where did we land on the keeping the fake boobs and blonde wig issue?"

Monica started to stand up, but Chandler laughed, pulling her back down. "Mon, Mon, Mon," he laughed. "Tell me about the job."

Monica hesitated slightly. "Well, there's a regular customer at work who just invested in a restaurant, and they're looking for an executive chef, and he's asked me before what I'm doing working at a place like that since I seem so out of place there, and he asked about my experience and where I went to school, and," she smiled, "I'm going to go in tomorrow and meet his partner and show them what I can do, but," she finished with a shrug, "I basically have the job!"

Chandler frowned. "It's Pete, isn't it?" he asked, referring to a regular customer who he had met before while having lunch at the diner, and Rachel had alluded to the fact that he had a crush on Monica. And, to top it off, Chandler had recognized him from a magazine as a software developer who was worth millions. Which, now having millions himself, really shouldn't both him, but it did. "Unless you have another regular customer who is a millionaire and likely to be investing in a restaurant…."

Monica sighed. "You're not going to get all weird and jealous and Ross-like about this are you?"

"Why would I be jealous? Because it's okay for him to buy you a restaurant, but not for me?"

"He's not buying a restaurant _for me_. He already bought a restaurant and is just asking me to be the executive chef."

"Sounds like the same thing to me."

"You're seriously going to be like this?" Monica asked, staring back at him. "You seemed so rational about the Ross being insanely jealous of Mark thing, and yet-"

"Completely different!"

"Seems pretty much the same to me-"

"I'm not being irrationally jealous," Chandler cut her off for a second time. "I trust _you_, I just don't trust _him_. And I think it's a bad idea and that you're going to get hurt."

Monica shook her head, finally standing up angrily. "Well, if you don't mind, I'm going to go share my news with someone who can actually be happy for me."

"Good!"

"And, in case you were wondering, the correct way to respond in this situation is, 'Congratulations,'" Monica added before leaving, slamming the door shut behind her.


	13. Chapter 13

**Night Moves**

**Chapter 13**

~.~

_I'm only 13 chapters into this? I don't know about you guys, but to me, it feels more along the lines of 33. Not that we're heading towards 33. God, no. It's taken me 7, almost 8 months to get this far, let's not stretch this out for two years. Like, ya know, my other series I have going right now. Ha, why you guys put up with this from me, and still remain loyal, I'll never quite understand… _

_Thanks for the feedback—keep it up, please. :) It's been quite the chaotic summer for me, on multiple fronts of my life, and it's nice to sneak off to here and have you people leave some kind words for me. :)_

~.~

Chandler sat, arms crossed, on the couch in front of the television when Rachel walked through the front door.

"Hey!" she greeted him cheerfully, and he nodded slightly in response. "Where's Monica?" she asked, looking around.

"Avoiding me," he huffed, tone implying that he was pouting.

Rachel smiled knowingly. "Uh-oh, trouble in paradise?" Chandler shot her a dirty look. "What happened?" Rachel asked, sitting on the couch beside him.

"Oh, my wife won't take anything from me in order to quit her stupid job that she hates, but she'll accept a restaurant from some random guy who has a crush on her…."

Rachel shook her head. "Okay, honey, you're going to have to walk me through this. What happened?"

"Pete bought Monica a restaurant," Chandler explained. "Or he bought a restaurant, and he asked Monica to be the Executive Chef. Either way," Chandler sighed. "And, apparently, I'm not allowed to have a problem with it, because then I sound like Ross."

"You are nothing like Ross."

"Tell Monica that," Chandler snorted.

Rachel studied the troubled look on Chandler's face. "You're allowed to have a fight, you know. You're even allowed to be a little jealous…."

Chandler wrinkled his nose. "Really?"

"Well, yea. It's all in how you handle it. Ross went out and slept with Chloe. You're sitting here waiting for Monica to come home. I think you win this game," Rachel paused, and the edges of Chandler's lips curled into a slight smile. "You know, maybe it's all as innocent as it seems. Maybe he just happened to be buying a restaurant and knew that Monica needed a job."

"Pft," Chandler exhaled in reply. "You said he's always flirting with her."

Rachel bit her lip. "Well, you know how I said that some jealousy and fighting are allowed? Well…innocent flirting doesn't hurt, either."

"Ha!"

"Oh, Chandler, you are too big of a flirt to disagree with that," Rachel laughed, patting his arm.

"I am not!" Chandler scoffed.

"Oh, honey, you are," Rachel countered, but Chandler still stared back in disbelief. "And there is nothing wrong with a little flirting when both parties know it's not going anywhere. You can't tell me that you don't flirt with any girls in any of your classes or some barista or waitress…."

"Well, I'm not going to buy any of them a restaurant," he finally grumbled in reply.

Rachel held back a laugh at that. "You trust Monica, right?"

Chandler nodded. "I do. Which is why I didn't tell her not to take the job. I just said that I don't like it."

Rachel smiled slightly. "She'll be back soon."

"I know," Chandler sighed. "And we'll probably fight a little more before we make up."

"Aw, look at you, all grown up and making rational relationship decisions."

Chandler laughed. "What the hell happened, right?"

Rachel smiled at him. "Are you okay here, or do you want some company?"

"I'm okay," Chandler nodded.

"Okay." Rachel stood up. "I'll just come back in the morning and talk to Monica. Goodnight, Chandler."

"Night, Rach," Chandler replied as she headed towards the door, sighing deeply once she was gone, thinking he might just go to bed rather than sit around worrying.

~.~

Chandler woke up at the shift of the mattress as Monica climbed into bed beside him. She met his eye through the darkness of the room as he looked up, guessing his question before he asked it. "I went to dinner with Phoebe."

Chandler nodded, watching as Monica rolled over, facing away from him. He stared at the back of her head for a moment, finally reaching to softly touch the bare spot on her lower back between where her camisole ended and her flannel pajama pants began, moving closer to her.

Monica quickly rolled over to face him. "Really, Chandler?" she asked angrily, wondering what possessed him to think she would have sex with him right now.

"What?"

"You know I'm still mad, right?"

Chandler nodded. "I know. So am I." Chandler paused, his hand still resting on her side. He slid his fingertips softly up and down her side. "Angry sex?" he suggested.

Monica thought about that for a moment, finally nodding slowly. "I think I could work with that."

"'Kay," Chandler replied before leaning down to kiss her, hard. She returned the kiss as he moved on top of her, his hands sliding up her stomach to her breasts, pausing there for a moment before pulling at her camisole to take it off. Monica pulled off her shirt before tugging at his boxers, and as he shifted to be able to kick them off, she slid down her flannel pajama pants and panties, as well.

"God, if I'd known all along the way to get you to undress that quickly was to piss you off…" Chandler quipped under his breath, but not quietly enough, as Monica dug her nails warningly into his back as she moved from kissing his neck to kissing him on the mouth to shut him up. Chandler held back a slight laugh as he moved on top of her, tickling her side slightly, causing her to flinch.

Monica shook her head. "I'm still mad. You don't get to make me laugh."

"But I get to have sex with you?"

"Not if you keep talking, you don't."

Chandler smiled slightly before leaning down to again capture her lips with his own, and she opened her mouth at the same time that she wrapped her legs around his back. Chandler pulled away momentarily, reaching to open the top drawer of the night stand and pull out the box of condoms. He opened the box, turning it upside to show that it was empty, before setting it back down.

The two stared at one another for a moment, weighing their options, before making a silent, unanimous decision to do it anyway.

As he pushed inside of her, they held eye contact for a moment before Monica placed a hand on the back of his head to pull him back down for a kiss, and his only thought was, no matter how mad he may be at her, he loved this woman more than he'd ever thought possible.

~.~

Monica walked around the restaurant kitchen for the second time, Pete having already shown her around once, while he called his partner (so far, absent partner), to see when he was coming.

As Pete walked back into the kitchen, Monica grinned. "Seriously, this refrigerator?" she said as she pointed behind her. "It's gigantic. I mean, I could live in it! I'd be cold, but I'm always cold!"

Pete laughed. "It's okay, then?"

"Okay?" Monica asked. "I'm about to the point where Chili's would be okay. This—this is…the kind of restaurant that looks like it comes with a four-star rating from the New York Times."

"Well, I'm glad you approve," Pete smiled. "Jeremy is running late, by the way, stuck in a meeting," he explained his partner's absence.

Monica shook her head, still looking around in awe. "This is just so perfect. Thank you so much!" She moved towards him, still overly excited, to give him a hug.

"Oh, you're welcome," Pete replied as he hugged her back, inhaling deeply the smell of her hair.

Monica froze at that, her heart sinking. _No, no, no_. She pulled back slowly, the look in Pete's eyes making it fairly clear he had just been caught red-handed. "Did you just smell my hair?" she asked accusatorily.

"No—oo?" he replied, dragging out the word into two syllables, a question mark audible at the end. "No," he repeated more firmly, shaking his head. "Nope. Definitely not."

"Pete."

"What?"

"Tell me—tell me you're not doing this because you have feelings for me."

"I'm not doing this because I have feeling for you," he repeated, though a little too quickly.

Monica bit her lip; Chandler had been right.

"Pete—"

"Look, Monica—"

"Pete, I am married."

"You're married?" Pete asked, genuinely shocked.

"To Chandler. You've even met Chandler," Monica continued on.

"You don't—you don't wear a ring," Pete fumbled for anything he could grasp onto. He hadn't known she was married. He had no intention of breaking up a marriage. He'd known Monica wasn't exactly interested at the moment, but he didn't know she was married.

"Doesn't make it any less important," Monica shot back.

Pete closed his eyes, pressing his fingertips into his temples, wishing to turn back time.

"Does Jeremy even exist?" Monica asked, praying he did.

Pete nodded. "He does. He really is running late. I can call him if you want to talk to him." Monica slowly shook her head, tears now in her eyes. "Is there any way—any way—we can move forward with this and pretend that the past five minutes didn't just happen?"

"I don't—I don't think so," she replied softly, now staring at the floor (the goddamn impeccable floor). She took a deep breath before looking up, not able to make eye contact with him. God, Chandler had been right. "I think I should go now."

Pete nodded. "If—if you change your mind, the offer still stands."

Monica picked up her purse from the counter she had set it down on, taking one last look around the kitchen at what could have been her dream job (what _had_ been her dream job). Glancing back at him, she shook her head. "Probably best if I don't," she replied before heading toward the door, leaving Pete alone in the kitchen, watching her walk away.


	14. Chapter 14

**Night Moves**

**Chapter 14**

~.~

_Two updates in four days? Between that and this ridiculous heat that just won't go away, it's probably a sign that the world is indeed coming to an end…._

_Thanks so much to everyone who reviewed the last chapter (Amelia_Lauren, ScandelousScavos, lmrasef, MatTeneyMoNdlerLoVer, speak_now_and_be_fearless, matteney, Veridissima, Mia_Fitzpatrick, dancer_cherrybug, and Exintaris), and, ya know, I would of course appreciate it if you keep it up. :)_

~.~

"Judging by that hickey on your shoulder, I'd guess that you and Monica made up last night," Phoebe grinned at Chandler from her spot on the couch as he walked out of the bathroom, towel wrapped around his waist after showering.

Chandler glanced up at Phoebe, and then to the kitchen, where Ross, Rachel, and Joey were eating breakfast, finally shaking his head. "Not exactly," he mumbled in reply to Phoebe, still heading towards the bedroom to get dressed.

"Angry sex? Didn't know you had it in you, Bing," Phoebe continued grinning as Chandler reddened, heading into the bedroom and closing the door behind him.

"So glad we can discuss my sister's sex life over breakfast," Ross grumbled, taking a bite of cereal.

"So glad that without Monica here, you all still show up for food," Chandler added, reappearing seconds later, now dressed in jeans and a sweatshirt.

"How many years have you lived across the hall from Monica?" Joey asked. "You know none of us even buy any kind of breakfast food…."

"Is Monica meeting with Pete?" Rachel asked as Rachel grabbed a cereal bowl and took a seat beside her, and Chandler just nodded. Rachel refrained from making any crack at Ross in comparison to how Chandler was handling the Pete situation, which Chandler took to mean that she and Ross had finally gone to dinner to talk, most likely the night before, and he felt slightly bad for monopolizing the conversation when she'd come over the night before, so he made a mental note to ask her about that later.

"So," Phoebe started, having moved into the kitchen. "Angry sex-"

"On that note," Ross interrupted her, "I'll see you guys later. I really don't need the details," he added before leaving.

Phoebe turned to Chandler expectantly, but he shook his head. "Fine," Phoebe shrugged. "I'll just ask Monica when she gets home."

~.~

Chandler looked up from his spot at the kitchen table where he was sitting, reading the newspaper and drinking a cup of coffee, everyone else having left for the morning. He immediately stood up as Monica slowly appeared from behind the door, her slightly reddened eyes and sad demeanor telling him exactly how the meeting had gone.

"Oh, Mon," he said softly, moving over to where she had stopped after setting her purse on the counter. "I didn't want to be right," he wrapped his arms around her, and her only response was to bury her face in his chest, letting herself fully cry for the first time since leaving the restaurant. "Believe me, I was hoping I was just being a jealous asshole. I didn't want to be right," he whispered, kissing her hair. Monica continued to cry softly as he held her tightly, softly rubbing slow circle on her back.

"I just wanted it so badly to be real," Monica finally pulled back, wiping the tears from her eyes. "It seemed too good to be true, but, god, I've worked for it for so long, and I deserve it!" She paused, sniffling. "I deserve it," she repeated, softer this time, and Chandler squeezed her hands, which were still in his. "The—the kitchen was perfect, and I would get to create my own menu, and it was _my_ kitchen, and—and," she took a deep shaky breath, "it's just not fair," she finished softly. "I'm a good chef! I deserve it!"

Chandler bit his bottom lip, hating seeing her in so much pain. "Hey, um, here's a thought," he finally said softly, still playing with her hands in his. "What if _we_ open a restaurant?"

Monica's eyes shot up to meet his immediately at that. "What?"

"What if we," he motioned between the two of them with his hands, still holding hers, "opened a restaurant."

Monica paused for a moment, thinking that through. "Do you know anything about running a restaurant?" she finally asked.

Chandler shook his head. "No, but you do."

Monica again paused, searching his eyes. "Are you being serious?"

"Completely," he nodded. "You can run the kitchen, and you can teach me enough so that I can do all of the front-end and book-keeping stuff. I'm actually a lot smarter than I look," he added with a grin, and Monica finally cracked a small smile.

"You're being serious."

"Well…yea. I kind of have this large sum of money that would probably be of some assistance in this…."

"Chandler, I can't ask you to do that."

"You're not asking. I'm offering," he corrected her. "Consider it an investment."

"I don't know that I'm worth that much of an investment."

"I do."

Monica's eyes filled with tears, though this time, tears that were accompanied by a smile. "Do you know how many new restaurants fail? How many years it might take to turn a profit? How many restaurant there are in Manhattan?"

Chandler grinned. "Know how many restaurants that are never started succeed? Zero." Monica laughed at that, and Chandler shrugged. "We won't spend all of the money, so even if it fails…we'll be okay. We can move to the suburbs and run an Applebee's franchise or something." Monica laughed even harder at that, leaning in the hug him.

"Are we really going to do this?" she asked, looking up at him.

"We're really gonna do this," he grinned in reply.

"You know it sounds a little crazy, right?" Monica asked. "Like, big, huge, scary crazy."

"If your dreams don't scare you, they're not big enough?"

"Did you peruse through a bunch of motivational posters this morning or something?" Monica laughed.

"Oh, oh, I've got one more! You miss one hundred percent of the shots that you don't take!"

"I think I'm sold, Chandler."

"If you don't ask, the answer is always no."

Monica laughed and shook her head, hugging him again. "I think we might actually pull this off," she said as she pulled back, eyes suddenly lighting up. "Oh, there's going to be so much planning to do! We have to find a location, and decide on a menu, and, oh, I need to find my label maker! And sticky notes! We need to buy some sticky notes-"

"The day I found out you owned a label maker, I probably should have turned and ran in the opposite direction."

"And yet you married me."

"Well, the copious amount of alcohol made me forget about the label maker." Monica smacked at his arm. "This is going to be fun," Chandler laughed.

"You've met me, right?"

"Yep. You are a neurotic, controlling pain-in-the-ass, and the more neurotic and controlling you get in a situation, the more fun it is to mess with you."

Chandler," Monica warned sternly.

Chandler smiled. "Relax. I've been doing it for years. It relaxes you when you get all," he motioned in front of him with his hands, "Monica."

"Really?"

"Yep," he grinned, and Monica couldn't help but smile slightly at that.

"Hey, I'm—I'm sorry that I didn't listen to you. About the whole Pete thing."

Chandler shook his head. "Don't worry about it. I was just being jealous."

"You were right, though."

"I'm sorry, I didn't hear that," Chandler laughed. "Can you repeat that sentence?"

"You were right," Monica repeated slowly, shaking her head. "Don't get too used to it." Chandler leaned in, softly kissing her temple. "Can we get started today?"

"There's no time like the present…."

"Okay, seriously, when I go to look at possible locations, I'm going to leave Chandler the Motivation Speaker at home."

"I'm so glad I was drunk enough to marry you in Vegas."

"Charming, romantic, and shouts motivational phrases ad libitum. Back off, ladies, he's mine."

Chandler was the first to crack a smile. "Are we done here?" he asked as he motioned between the two of them. "Because this restaurant isn't going to open itself." Monica rolled her eyes. "Hey, you were very aware of how much of a sarcastic pain-in-the-ass I was before you married me."

"Copious amounts of alcohol-" she began mocking him with a laugh, but he cut her off with a deep kiss. Pulling back, arms still around his neck, she smiled. "Hey."

"Hey," he returned her smile. "I love you."

"I love you, too."

"Let's do this?" Chandler asked as they pulled away, holding up a hand for a high-five.

Monica high-fived him with a grin. "Let's do this."


	15. Chapter 15

**Night Moves**

**Chapter 15**

~.~

_Um…hi. Hope I haven't lost ALL of you due to not updating in so long. Thank you all SO much for the reviews, and the congrats, and the messages…I appreciate it mucho, even if I haven't been getting on here enough to reply to you all!_

~.~

Monica turned slow circles around the pristine kitchen of stainless steel and brand new, impeccably clean tile floors, a surreal feeling over coming her as she took it all in. Although the restaurant had now been many months in the making, it still occasionally came as a shock to Monica that this was actually, really, truly happening.

They had spent quite a bit of time at first simply coming up with the concept of the restaurant. It was during these initial planning stages that Rachel, of all people, had gone to Chandler to make sure that, while she loved Monica and was happy for her, and for them, she wanted to be sure that, after Chandler had pushed her to follow her dream, he wasn't giving up on his own to do this for Monica. He assured her that he still had no idea what his dream was, but that when he did figure it out, he would most definitely do something to make it happen. However, in the mean time, he really did want to do this. It had come as a bit of a relief to Monica to hear that, as well, although she felt a bit selfish for not having the same initial worry as Rachel, though she figured this had been her dream for so long that it was hard not to be blinded entirely by that.

It had only taken them a week to find a location. A week. Which seemed entirely too good to be true. They hadn't even been looking, really, but had walked by what had been a café that had closed, and something about the location in The Village and something about how the outside looked…Monica knew it was it. And, after seeing the inside, it was. They hadn't even been set on the type of food yet (which ended up being a modern kind of French-American), and Monica knew that meant they were doing it completely backwards, but... backwards worked for them. Apparently. It was how their entire relationship had progressed—why not open a restaurant in the same fashion?

Finding a staff had been easier than either of them had thought, as well. She'd known, immediately, she wanted an old co-worker from Iridium as her Sous Chef, and once she had tracked Frannie down, she had immediately accepted. As for her line cooks, she hired a couple other people she had previously worked with, and, as far as everyone else, it turned out, it was Manhattan, and even though she had very high standards, there were people looking for work who met those high standards.

The last, of everything, even after the menu, after renovations were being done, was the name. Chandler had basically told her to have at it for the name, but it had been one of the hardest decisions. Something about putting a name to her dream, perhaps? After pages of names in a notebook that she had scribbled out, rewritten, and scribbled out again, once she had (finally) decided on a name, everyone agreed it was the most fitting. Monica had always been the hostess, and Monica's home was where everyone was always invited to be, so Chez Nous had felt fitting. It felt right.

It all seemed too good to be true. Monica was still sure that, any minute, she was going to wake up from this. This wasn't supposed to be this easy. It was supposed to be hard, and she and Chandler should have definitely had more things to argue about than they had, and everything should not have worked out so smoothly. They should not be opening in less than a week without a single catastrophe. Something, anything, should have gone at least somewhat wrong. They were having a soft opening for family and friends that weekend; something had to go wrong before then—

"Hey."

Monica jumped slightly at the sound of Chandler's voice, though she had known he would be there shortly.

"Hey," she smiled in return, turning to face him.

"Is everything to your expectation, _Chef_?" He emphasized the last word, which made her smile wider.

"Surprisingly…yes." They both laughed slightly at that. Monica studied him for a moment, his hands stuffed in his pockets, looking like he had something to tell her. Here it was, the catastrophe she'd been waiting on…. "What?"

"What, what?" Chandler asked, looking at her strangely, clearly hiding something. Monica cocked her head to the side, knowing something was up, and Chandler only smiled at that. He pulled his left hand form his pocket, holding up a finger, telling her to wait just a second. He looked down momentarily before looking back up, holding eye contact as he pulled his right hand from his pocket, placing the contents on the counter.

Monica held eye contact for only a few seconds before looking to what he had placed on the counter, her heart immediately beating harder as she did: a box. A small, square, red velvet box. A ring box. A box they hadn't quite discussed, though they were technically married already.

Monica looked back up at Chandler, who smiled. "I just—before, I," Chandler stuttered, then paused, shaking his head and laughing. "I'm going to start over. I was much more intoxicated the first time, so I think this might have been easier," he joked, and Monica smiled.

"I love you," he started slowly, "I love…us. We work, and this works, and how unconventionally this happened—it works. But I also know that you've been planning your dream wedding since you were ten—"

"Eight," Monica corrected.

"Eight," Chandler echoed with a laugh. "And even if you say that you're okay with how this has worked out, I doubt that that dream wedding had involved Vegas and massive amounts of alcohol and not even remembering it the next morning," he paused as they both again laughed, "and I don't-I don't want to be the reason you regret not having that."

Monica bit her bottom lip before smiling shyly. She nodded slightly. "Here's the thing, though," she began softly. "I'd always imagined my wedding day, and what kind of dress I would wear, and the music that would play, and the kind of cake we would eat, and what colors the bridesmaids would wear, and who all would be there, but," she paused, smile widening, "what I didn't realize then was…I wanted this." She motioned between them. "I wanted someone to come home to at night and to wake up to in the morning. I wanted someone to dream about the future with and argue with and compromise with. I wanted someone who would always be on Team Monica. I wanted," she paused, taking a deep breath as she reached for his hands, "I wanted a relationship. I wanted exactly what we have. I wanted a marriage."

Chandler smiled as he squeezed her hands, both of them teary-eyed. "I think you just stole my thunder here. I'm pretty sure the guy's supposed to say those things."

"Sorry," Monica apologized with a laugh, leaning in to hug him. "I'm pretty sure you're supposed to date before you get married, too. Not the other way around."

"Probably," Chandler laughed in agreement, tightening his arms around her in a hug before leaning down to kiss her. "I love you so much."

"I love you, too."

"That wasn't you turning down having a wedding, was it?"

"Oh, no, definitely not," Monica replied quickly, and Chandler laughed as she reached for the ring box, opening it, but leaving it on the counter.

Inside, there was not one ring, but three: a wedding band and engagement ring for her and a wedding band for him. Monica first reached for his wedding band, fingering the simple platinum band for a few seconds before placing it on his finger. Chandler then followed suit, first taking her wedding band, which matched his, only smaller and more slender, before sliding it on her finger. He then picked up her engagement ring, but before sliding it on her finger, and before she even got a very good look at it, other than the emerald-cut diamond in the middle, he closed his fist around it.

"One condition."

"Are you allowed to put conditions on this?" Monica asked with a laugh, and Chandler shrugged. "Fine" She rolled her eyes. "What is your condition?"

"When you tell your parents we've already been married for almost a year—"

"When _I_ tell my parents?" Monica cut him off. "How about when _we_ tell my parents—"

"When _you_ tell your parents," Chandler laughed, "you can't let them kill me."

Monica laughed. "Well, it's taken a good ten years to get this," she motioned between them, "down, and I really don't want to have to start over with someone new, so I'll definitely try to stop them."

Chandler grinned. "That's all I ask." Monica laughed again, shaking her head as he slipped the other ring on her finger before kissing her again. When they pulled apart, the look on his face was much more serious. "I just—I also wanted to say that," he started softly, "I've known for quite some time how much you mean to me, and that you've been a really big, important part of my life for years, and it sucks—it sucks that it took my dad dying, and going to Vegas, and getting really drunk for this to happen, but I'm—I'm really glad that it did," he paused. "Because, Mon, this past year with you…. You make me happier than I ever thought I could be, and, I swear, I will spend the rest of my life trying to make you feel the same way."

At that last part, Monica lost it, throwing herself back against his chest as he tightened his arms around her, entwined in a mixture of laughter and tears as they enjoyed the moment.

"I think you stole your thunder back," Monica finally mumbled.

Chandler grinned. "Good. That was pretty much the entire point." Monica laughed. "We should probably do something to celebrate now…" Chandler trailed off, looking around. "All alone in a big restaurant, whatever could that involve…."

"Nope!" Monica immediately shook her head.

"Mon-"

"No, absolutely not. We are not having sex in my brand new kitchen."

"But-"

"Huh-uh."

Chandler remained silent for a moment. "I'll say more things like before?" Monica shook her head. "So, sex on the roof you're okay with, but not in the kitchen?"

"The kitchen is so clean!"

Chandler smiled, a thought crossing his mind. "I'll help you clean _and_ sanitize the _entire_ kitchen again afterwards?"

Monica thought that through. "Say more things like that, Bing."

Chandler shook his head, turning to leave. "Yea, you're a freak. I don't want to have sex with you anymore."

Monica laughed, grabbing his hand to pull him back towards her. "I love you?"

Chandler laughed, as well, leaning down to kiss her again. "I love you, too."

~.~

_I think I've got one final part to go after this! So, if you're still out there, even though I haven't updated in three months and this story has now been going on for almost a year, if you could leave me a few words to lemme know, I would appreciate it! My goal is to have this wrapped up in the next 2 weeks—no promises, though. :) _


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